


The Warriors - The Early Years

by superfix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Dean, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfix/pseuds/superfix
Summary: Hunter John Winchester receives a young Omega as payment for a job and claims him.Omega Dean is committed for life - until he meets a blue-eyed drifter.Please heed warnings - for sexual content and some situations may be triggers.





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

John Winchester was the kind of man who could be the most intimidating when he smiled. Right now, he was smiling across the kitchen table of an overweight, middle-aged banker named Michael Crowe 

His smile did not reach his eyes.

Michael was a client of his, who'd lost his wife some months before in an unfortunate accident. He'd come home after an evening of drinking at the local tavern, to find her crumpled at the bottom of the basement steps, her laundry basket and its contents strewn about her.

It had been determined by the local coroner that she'd died instantly from a broken neck and that the death was accidental. Michael had breathed a sigh of relief and collected a nice little insurance claim.

With the money, he'd enjoyed a pleasant Caribbean cruise and purchased a new Lexus. The rest of it, he'd lost to an unfortunate gambling habit. Michael liked to bet the horses.

So, when his departed wife had returned to reap some much deserved vengeance, he'd been forced to hire John to relieve him of his problem. The agreed upon fee had been ten thousand dollars. 

John had discretely salted and burned the remains, and it was now time for Michael to pay up. 

“Time's up Mike.” John said as he took a sip from the glass of beer Michael had kindly brought him. “You know, I think I've been more then patient. What did you think...that I was just gonna walk away?”

“I told you, I'll get you your money John. I've just run into a few financial difficulties.” Michael rubbed his mouth nervously, his fingers trembling.

John stood up and walked across the kitchen, carefully placing his glass in the sink. He turned around and looked at the banker. The guy was fat, his face flushed. John was tired of fooling around.

He casually approached him and slammed his fist into his jaw.

Michael toppled over, chair and all. 

“Jesus Christ John!” he cried, rubbing his bleeding lip with his sleeve. 

He slid himself back across the floor, and leaned up against the kitchen cabinet.

“Get up.” John said with distaste. 

With some effort, Michael pulled himself up, his eyes shifting around the room as though looking for escape.

“You don't need to be like this. I said I'd pay you. It's just going to take some time.”

“And I said times up, Michael.” John said coldly. 

“So what the hell does that mean? What, you're going to kill me or something?” 

“No. I'm not gonna kill you Michael. I may go to the police and let them know you killed your wife, but I'm not going to kill you.”

“That's ridiculous.” Michael scoffed. “It was an accident.”

John laughed. “Not according to her.”

Michael looked at him doubtfully. “Even if that were true, which it's not, you couldn't prove anything.” he said.

“Probably not. Still, it could get embarrassing. You know, since you're such an upstanding citizen. Anyway, the bottom line is I want my payment. So what are we going to do about this?”

“I don't have the funds tonight. I'll try to work out something tomorrow. You can wait one more fucking day.”

John sat down with a sigh. 

“You know, I notice you've got a nice little Lexus parked in the driveway.”

Michael scoffed. “That car's worth forty grand.”

“I have no problem with that.” 

“Look.” Michael rubbed his face thoughtfully. “Maybe I do have something I can give you.”

John smirked. “I'm listening.” 

“An Omega. A boy. He's fourteen, just going into his first heat.”

John laughed. “You're serious. What the hell do I want with some Omega?”

“This kid's special John. He's actually beautiful.”

John scoffed. “Sorry, not interested.” 

“Look, you're an Alpha...clearly. Why don't you just meet him. Believe me, you see him, you'll want to claim him.”

“Why's he with you anyway?”

“My wife. She got him from her sister. You know, to help around the house, keep her company, shit like that. I've got no use for him, myself. I'm ah, more into women, if you know what I mean.”

John smirked at the Beta. The only way this guy could get laid would be to lay out big cash.

“Alright, let me see him.” John said. “I doubt I'll be interested. But, I'll take a look.”

Michael smiled in relief. He was sweating profusely, his round face red and his lip already swelling. 

“I'll be right back.” he said, rushing from the room.

John sighed and shook his head. 

After some minutes, Michael returned, followed by a sleep tousled, pajama clad fourteen year old.

John looked up, immediately picking up the strong scent of the boy's heat. 

The kid's face was flushed, his forehead beaded with sweat. John could see that he was clearly in distress, his breathing shallow. He knew that there were suppressants Omega's could take to relieve their symptoms. It was obvious the boy had not been given anything. 

“You're just letting him suffer, huh?” he said, looking up at Michael with disgust.

“The symptoms only last three or four days. I told you, I'm having some financial problems. The pills cost a fortune.” Michael answered defensively. 

John felt a surge of rage and fought the impulse to jump from his chair and attack the man. He knew part of the reason, was his body reacting to the Omega's scent. And right now, his blood was boiling.

“Step closer son.” he said, his voice husky.

The kid approached cautiously. John studied his features.

Michael hadn't exaggerated. He truly was beautiful. While he was clearly masculine, he had the cultured, refined features of an Omega. His large green eyes, fringed by long lashes, were enhanced by the feverish glaze. And his lips were full. John reached up and gently touched them with his thumb. He noticed the boy didn't flinch. Omega's were often examined in this way, as their value was based on their appearance.

“What's your name?” 

The boy looked him in the eye, showing some defiance. It was John's experience that most Omegas in heat, cringed in fear in the presence of an Alpha. Apparently, this boy did not. 

He already knew of course. He was going to claim him.

“Dean.” he answered softly. 

“Go pack up your things Dean. You're leaving this place tonight.”

Dean looked over at Michael, not hiding his distaste.

“You heard him. And be quick about it.” Michael snapped. “I want you both out of my house.”

He nodded and took one final look at John. 

“Don't take long.” John said, watching him intently.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “You gotta name at least?”

John grinned. “John...John Winchester. And you're now Dean Winchester. Now go.”

Dean nodded and turned away. 

John stood up and approached the banker, who stepped back cautiously. “I'll wait out in my truck.” he said. “Send him out when he's ready.”

Michael nodded with relief. “So we're square? I won't see you again, right?”

“Well, there’s just one other little thing.” John said, smiling his best killer smile. 

“It's about your wife.” he continued. “This is for her.” 

He pulled a hunting knife from his belt and before Michael could even think of running, plunged it into his thigh.


	2. Chapter 2

The Claiming

 

“Just throw that in the back.” John ordered, watching through the open window as Dean approached the truck. The boy was dressed in jeans and a gray hoodie and was carrying a fully stuffed, duffel bag.

Dean obliged and then opened the creaking truck door and climbed in. John revved up the engine of the old truck for a moment and then pulled out onto the street. 

“You okay?” he asked, glancing over at him. Dean looked back and nodded. 

“We're heading back to the motel.” John said. 

Dean nodded again and looked down. “So what, you own me now?” he whispered.

John smiled, looking over and catching his eye. “You're not a slave, Dean. But you are a kid and you are an Omega. You have to be with somebody.”

Dean nodded. 

Even as adults, Omegas weren't allowed to live on their own. Their value was based primarily on their physical beauty, as they usually had softer features, large eyes and smaller builds. But they were also valued for their nurturing and gentle natures. Most also believed them to be slightly less intelligent, and Omegas were usually pulled out of school at a young age since simple reading and writing was all they'd really need in life. There were no doctors or lawyers who were Omegas. 

“Tomorrow morning we'll head home. It's about a two hour drive.” he continued. “I live out in the country. I think you'll like it. We're just a small family. There's Jake, he's my partner. And Jo, his wife. And then there's my son, Sammy. He's only ten. You'll probably be spending a lot of time with him. I'm going to make him your responsibility when I'm away.”

John looked over and smiled warmly. 

“He's a good kid, you'll like him. And that's it. It'll just be the five of us.” 

Dean said nothing, just stared ahead through the windshield.

“So Dean, what are you thinking? You scared?”

“No.” he answered firmly, glaring over at him.

John chuckled. “Good. You know, I haven't known too many Omegas, but it's been my experience most of you are timid...nervous. But you're not timid, are you? I guess that's why I like you. Of course your looks don't hurt either.”

“Yes Alpha.”

“Call me John. You only need to call me that when we're intimate, okay?”

Dean nodded and averted his eyes, his face flushing.

John grinned. “It's all good Dean. It's natural.”

They sat quietly for a while. John put some classic rock station on, and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in agitation. He was fully aroused. His need to take the young Omega was overpowering. In his younger days, he probably would have just pulled over. But he wanted to be careful. It was the Omega's first time. And he knew, the kid had to be scared even if he was trying to hide it.

“You understand the claiming process Dean?” he asked finally.

“Yes sir. It'll take away this pain right?” Dean asked.

“Yup. This is going to make you feel better. I promise, okay?”

He looked over and noticed Dean's concerned expression. 

“I'm not going to lie to you Dean. It's a little rough the first time. But it'll feel good too. And afterwords, you're going to look at this whole situation differently. It's all biology son.”

“Differently?” Dean asked, looking over at him curiously.

John smirked. “Okay... well right now you're thinking, who the hell is this asshole, talking to me like he owns me, right?”

“Maybe.” Dean said hesitantly.

“Well after, you're not going to feel that way anymore. I'm not trying to sound like an arrogant dick here, but after the claiming, I'll become the most important person in your life.”

Dean looked at him doubtfully. 

John chuckled. “Yeah, I know, you don't believe me. It doesn't matter son. Just know, I won't hurt you, okay?”

“Yes sir.” 

It was some time later that John pulled the truck up to the motel door. He looked over at the Omega. “I need to apologize to you Dean.” he said. “The place is kind of a dump. If I'd known, well that this was going to happen, I'd have gotten us a nicer place.”

Dean swallowed nervously. “It don't matter.” he said.

John nodded. “Yeah, it does. Come on, let's go in.”

They both climbed out of the truck and John grabbed Dean's bag from the back. Dean hesitantly followed him into the room. 

It stank of stale cigarette smoke and some cloying, sweet air freshener. The curtains were drawn and it was dark, with the exception of the flashing, red glow from the digital clock on the bedside table. There was a single, queen sized bed covered with a beaded old blue quilt. 

John threw Dean's duffel on the floor and sat down at the table, flicking on the lamp. Dean watched him cautiously. 

“Come over here Omega.” he ordered.

Dean approached him. As an Omega, his eyes naturally averted downwards. 

John put his hands on Dean's hips, looking up at him. He could feel the heat radiating off of him. His tee-shirt was wet and his eyes seemed even glassier. The sweet scent of his heat had grown even stronger in the presence of an Alpha.

John breathed in deeply, feeling a rush of blood to his groin.

“You know son,” he said, his voice now soft and husky “this is a surprise to me. I never expected this tonight.”

Dean said nothing. Just continued to look down. John could see the Omega was ready though. His need was clearly starting to drip down the inner thigh of his jeans.

“Do you know what's going to happen?” John asked.

Dean nodded. 

“Good.” John said, again breathing in the sweet scent. “Fuck, you smell so good.” 

He pulled him close, nussling into Dean's crotch. 

“Take these off.” he growled.

With slightly shaky fingers Dean undid his button and pulled down the zipper of his jeans.

“Hurry Dean.” John said. “I want to see all of you.” 

Dean quickly pulled down his jeans and boxers and stepped out of them. Then pulled off his tee-shirt.

He stood there naked, as John studied him.

“Come here.” he ordered. 

“You know, you're beautiful Dean. You're a perfect Omega.” 

He reached up and roughly pushed his fingers up into his wetness. He could feel Dean shudder. “Come on.” 

John led him over to the bed, pushing him down onto his back and then quickly undressed himself.

“Lift up your knees.” he said, his voice low and rough.

The Omega quickly obeyed. John could see he was dripping and ready. His whole body was damp with sweat, his breathing shallow. 

“Please...now Alpha.” he pleaded, not hiding his distress.

John growled softly. He gripped both of Dean's hips and pushed into him. 

Dean cried out, tears forming in his eyes. “Stop. It hurts.” He cried, with sudden panic. 

John ignored him and thrust in deeply.

He was past listening now. His pounding sped up as his knot expanded. He knew he was stretching the Omega inside. He gripped the boys hips, digging his fingers in painfully.

And then Dean gasped and John could feel his insides relax and pulse with the release of a hot gush of warm slick as his body naturally responded. 

“That's it Omega.” he grunted as Dean began to push back against him. 

“Need to...Please Alpha.”

John grasped Dean's hard cock, rubbing it roughly until he brought him to climax. 

And then John came, his fluid gushing out inside the Omega.

Finally he relaxed, still fully knotted. He rested his full weight on Dean, wrapping his arms around him possessively. Dean turned his head to the side, instinctively presenting his throat. John bit down savagely, tasting blood. Even though Dean jerked and cried out, he held on, letting his saliva mix with the young Omega's blood.

Finally he released him. 

“That's good Dean. Shit, amazing.” he growled softly. 

They would lie there for some time, John fully knotted inside of his Omega. He would ejaculate again and then maybe a third time before he would be able to pull out. 

Dean's eyes closed. And then, John realized, he slept. John himself, stayed awake, holding him. 

The claiming was complete. The Omega belonged to him now.

After some time, he was able to pull out and he rolled off, waking Dean who mumbled, trying to pull him back.

John sat up.

“You need to go shower, before you go back to asleep.” He ordered. “I don't want you to hold it in, just try to rinse yourself out. I've got no interest in knocking you up.”

“Yes Alpha.” Dean said, wearily climbing off the bed. He looked flushed and dopey.

“Dean?”

Dean looked back. John was watching him carefully. 

“You did good.” he said.

Dean nodded and went in to take his shower.


	3. Chapter 3

Learning One's Place

 

Dean woke up, his legs tangled up in the sheets. He squinted his eyes against the harsh glare, as John pulled open the curtains letting in the morning light. 

“Come on Dean...you can't sleep all day.” he said. He himself, was fully dressed. Dean rolled over and sat on the side of the bed. 

“Damn.” John muttered. “this room smells of Omega. How do you feel anyway?”

Dean realized his fever and cramps had eased. He still felt slightly flushed and when he moved, his ass throbbed from the rough sex, but he did feel better.

“Fine.” he answered.

“Well, I think I'm going to have to wait outside. Otherwise, I'm going to take you again.” John said in a husky tone as he pulled open the door. “Unless, that's what you want?”

Dean glanced up at him nervously. He was still sore. He really just wanted to go back to sleep. But the question still sent a ripple of need through him. 

“I'm not sure.” he answered honestly. His feelings this morning were strange. For some reason the thought of John leaving, even just to wait in the truck, filled him with a sense of unease

John smirked knowingly. “A young Omega in heat. Damn, I forgot.” 

He shut the door.

Dean nodded, feeling his arousal building. But he also felt a more urgent need.

“I just have to...” he glanced at the bathroom.

John began to unbuckle his belt. “Go on, I'll wait.”

Dean slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His face was still flushed and he had dark shadows under his eyes. He combed back his messy hair with his fingers and leaned forward. The bite on his neck was red and raw looking, and tender to his touch. Still, it showed no sign of infection. He realized John must have smeared some ointment on it while he slept. 

He leaned down and took a deep breath. His life had changed in one night. He now belonged to the stranger who was waiting for him in the next room. He felt no emotional connection to him, but the physical need to be near him was strong. They were bonded now. The thought of leaving him was not even conceivable. He looked back up at his reflection. 

He was only an Omega, bottom caste of society. And he knew he was lucky. At least John had tried to be gentle. 

After he'd taken care of his immediate need, and washed up as best he could, he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He was still shy around the Alpha.

John was lying on the bed, naked. “Come here Omega.” He said, reaching out.

Dean approached and John reached out and yanked off the towel.

“Straddle me.” he ordered.

Dean quickly lowered his eyes and smiled softly, his own need now pulsing. He felt a warm gush between his butt cheeks.

It sent a strong scent to the Alpha, who grabbed him, pulling him on top. “Ease me into you.” John ordered, his dark, unblinking eyes following Dean's every move. Dean reached down and grasped the Alpha's cock, moving it until he felt it pressing against his entrance. And then he pushed down, feeling a shiver of pleasure as it slid in.

This time there was less pain. Dean was still tender, but he was wet. His Alpha gripped his hips, pressing him down firmly, his knot quickly swelling. He then lifted him roughly, pulling him back down with force and thrusting in deeply.

Dean could feel his orgasm building. He was fully aroused but waited for permission to touch himself.

Suddenly his Alpha pushed him over with a growl and rolled on top of him, thrusting in violently. Dean felt the sudden, warm release of slick from his entrance.

John grunted as he took him. Again Dean felt his insides opening and then finally the hot gush of the Alpha's release. 

“I'm getting too old for this.” John muttered with a chuckle.

“Please.” Dean whispered. “I need....”

John reached down and grasped Dean's still hardened cock and brought him to climax, Dean gasped and shuddered beneath him.

Afterwords they lay there, locked together. Dean did not sleep this time, but wrapped his arms and legs tightly around his Alpha. John snored softly into his ear.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was going to be a long drive, John told him. Dean stared out the front window of the truck, the highway stretched out endlessly before him. It was building up to be a hot, August day. The cool air blowing in from the vents cooled his skin and he relaxed back in his seat, his fears mostly gone. He felt safe with John. John was now his Alpha and his protector and he knew, if it came to it, he himself would give his life for him. 

The sex had eased his symptoms. He still felt flushes of heat. When it flared, he also became more aware of the musky scent emanating from the Alpha. 

John opened his window. “We're not pulling over son.” he said, and grinned over at him. “Those pills should ease things. And make sure you take the other ones too. I don't need you swelling up with a pup....hopefully, it's not too late.”

Dean blushed and looked down. He definitely wasn't ready for a kid yet either. 

They'd stopped at a pharmacy and picked up some suppressants, special soap and even birth control pills. It was expensive, and Dean had noticed John scowling over at him as he pulled out his wallet to pay for them. He knew it wasn't his fault, but still, he felt a twinge of guilt. He did not want to upset his Alpha.

By early afternoon, John finally pulled into a roadside diner, telling Dean to get a table while he gassed up the truck. 

He climbed out, stretching his muscles which still tingled from the morning's activities. John was watching him and nodded, indicating for him to go ahead. 

A bell jingled as he pushed open the door. Inside it smelled of deep fried oil and a kind of musty combination of road dust and human sweat. It was quiet, the only other patrons, a couple of middle aged truckers who glanced up at him with mild curiosity.

Dean nodded and walked past them, choosing a booth near the back next to the huge, plate glass window. As he passed, he felt one of them reach out and rub his thigh. He quickly continued and slid into the booth.

The waitress approached him, smiling warmly. “Hey honey.” she greeted. She was maybe thirty, with stringy, dark blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. Dean looked up and returned her smile.

“Well look at you.” she said, the corners of her blue eyes crinkling. “Aint you a pretty Omega.”

Dean's smile faded at the condescending remark.

“I'm just waiting for someone.” he said, glancing back out the window. John was finished pumping the gas, and was now walking towards the entrance.

“You want some water to start? You look all flushed.” she said meaningfully.

“Two. Thanks.” He replied. He didn't bother looking back at her, just kept his eyes on his Alpha.

“Hey Nancy?” 

Dean looked over at the other booth with a start. The trucker who was facing him, a solidly built man, with thin, graying hair and thick tattooed arms, was grinning back. He was clearly an Alpha.

“What is it Jack?” the waitress replied from behind the counter.

“You hitting on that pretty little Omega?”

“He aint interested Jack. Just leave him alone.” she said, placing the two glasses of water on her tray.

The trucker winked at him and licked his lips. Dean looked down, his heart beginning to pound. Clearly the trucker was aware of his heat. 

To his relief, the bell above the door tinkled, and John walked in. The trucker grinned and looked away.

“Everything okay sport?” John asked as he slid in across from him. 

“Yeah. Fine.” Dean answered, looking down at his place mat which served as the menu.

“Shit, I'm starving. I'm not used to this much activity.” he said with a grin. 

Dean scowled, feeling an unwelcomed surge of heat, his natural physical reaction to his Alpha's presence.

“Hey.” John reached across and clasped his hand. “What's wrong.”

Dean pulled back his hand. “I told you I'm fine.” he snapped.

John was quiet and Dean looked up, noticing his dark eyes were clouding over with anger.

The waitress, Nancy, broke the moment, placing their glasses down in front of them. “Hey.” she said, smiling down at John.

John tilted his head in warning at Dean and then glanced up. 

“I'll just start out with some coffee, thanks.” 

“What about your pretty Omega. We do make a mean milkshake.” she offered.

Dean glared up at her and then looked back at his Alpha. John was watching him carefully.

“What flavor do you want Dean?”

“I'll just have coffee.” he said, his eyes locked onto John's.

“Bring my boy a chocolate shake.” 

“Sure, coming right up.” Nancy walked away quickly.

Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I really don't want a milkshake John.”

John reached across and grasped his wrist painfully. “You have to understand something Dean. You're mine now. I decide what you eat, what you drink. And you never, ever contradict me in public. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

John eased off the pressure and gently rubbed Dean's wrist. “Don't look so worried. This is just the way it is, okay? I'll take care of you. I'll always respect you. But I set the rules.”

Dean stared back at him, feeling a sudden sense of disappointment in both John and himself. It was being made clear to him that he was only an Omega.

“Yes sir.” he said softly.

John ordered them both burgers and fries. They ate in silence. Dean had to admit, the food was good and he ate with relish. He pushed aside the shake though, leaving it untouched.

“Excuse me.” 

Dean looked up with a start. It was the trucker.

They'd just finished and John was reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He too looked up. 

“Don't mean to bother you.” the man said, his small blue eyes locked onto John's.

John shook his head. “How can I help you?”

“Well, before ya came in earlier, I noticed your pretty Omega makin eyes at me.” he grinned.

Dean glared up at him indignantly.

“I ah, don't know your situation. I was just wondering if the boy's available. I see he's in full heat.”

“What are you asking?” John asked coldly.

“Again, I don't want to offend. I got my truck out back and I'd be willin to pay. It wouldn't take long. I think a hundred would be fair. That'd pay for your gas and dinner. Plus a little extra.”

Dean felt a ripple of fear. John was a big man, his eyes dark and intimidating and now filled with cold rage. Dean said nothing.

“I'm going to do you a favor.” John said softly. “I'm not going to slit your throat. But you need to leave now.”

The man's face flushed red and he stepped back. “Yeah, sure. I'm sorry.” he stammered.

He rushed away. His friend quickly got up and followed. 

John didn't look at Dean, just threw down two twenties and stood up. 

>>>>>>>>>>

“So, is it much further?” Dean asked, hoping to ease the tension.

They hadn't spoken since leaving the diner. John stared ahead, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. 

Since he wasn't responding, Dean frowned and reached over, turning on the radio.

John reached over and shut it off.

Dean glared over at him. Fuck him, he thought. He'd done nothing wrong. 

He tried to ignore the warm flush as he smelled the Alpha scent, which was stronger now. It was different though. It didn't only draw him, but somehow repelled him as well. 

He closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure how long he slept, but he was jolted awake when the truck lurched as it hit a hole in the bumpy road. Dean realized they'd pulled off the main highway, and he could see heavy brush and dense trees on either side.

Noticing Dean was awake, John pulled over to the side and turned off the engine. 

“Get out.” he said softly.

Dean looked over at him. “What? Why?” 

John opened his own door and stepped down, gently closing it behind him. Dean watched as he walked around the front of the truck and approached the passenger door, reaching over and opening it. There was a cold and distant look in John's eyes. And then he reached in and grabbed Dean's shirt, yanking him out.

“What the hell?” Dean cried out as he was slammed against the side of the truck.

“I want to know Dean.” John said quietly, his hands still grasping his shirt, his faces only inches away. “What happened?”

Dean turned his own face away, trying to pull John's hands loose. John shook him roughly.

“Tell me, what the fuck was that?” John asked again, the softness of his tone more ominous then if he'd been screaming. 

Dean took a shuddering breath and forced himself to meet his Alpha's eyes. 

“I didn't do anything John. Get your hands off me.”

“You need to know this Dean. If you ever look at another Alpha. If you breathe in his direction. I will kill both of you. Do you understand me?”

He slammed Dean roughly against the truck. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” Dean said softly.

John held him in his grip for several moments, his face so close that Dean could feel the heat of his shuddering breaths against his cheek. And then he released him. 

“Get in the truck.” he ordered.


	4. Chapter 4

Meet The Family

 

Dean did not look over at or speak to John for the rest of the journey, which fortunately was not long. It was early afternoon when John pulled the pickup off the country road and drove slowly up the long, rutted drive that led to the house.

As they pulled in, Dean noticed a NO TRESPASSING sign hanging from the front gate. He wondered who could possibly be trespassing here anyway. They seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, having passed no other houses for miles.

“This is home.” John said. It was his first words since they'd pulled off the road. 

John shut off the engine and looked over at him. “You have to understand Dean. When you're in heat, others are going to notice. If I hadn't been there, that Alpha would... he might have just taken you. Jesus, Dean. I don't think you have any idea how special you are.”

John paused for a moment, then sighed deeply as though releasing his rage.

“ Anyway, I want you to know I'm sorry if I was a little rough, okay?”

Again Dean nodded.

“We good then?” John asked.

Dean looked up at him. “Yes sir.” he said softly.

“Dad!”

Dean glanced out the window and saw that a young boy was running up to the truck. He was slim, with long, chestnut hair and bangs almost to his eyes. He had a warm smile and even from the truck, Dean could see his dimpled cheeks. 

He suddenly realized he was smiling at the kid.

John opened his door and stepped down. “Hey Sammy.” he said, breaking into a grin. The kid rushed up and gave him a quick hug. 

“How was your trip?” he asked.

“Good.” 

The kid smirked. “You bring me anything?” 

“Well, actually I did.” John looked over at the truck. “Come on Dean, come meet my son.”

Dean reluctantly opened his door and climbed out.

“Hey.” Sam studied him , hazel eyes looking up shyly.

“Hey.” Dean replied.

“Dean's going to be living with us.” John said, pulling the bags from the back of the truck.

“Is that right?” 

Dean looked over to see a burly guy with a muscle shirt and filthy, baggy jeans studying him. He had thinning, brown hair and a rugged, unshaven face.

“Dean, this is Jake.”

Jake nodded. “Hiya honey.”

“Jake.” John warned. 

“What?”

“Just don't. Come on boys, let's go in.” 

The house was a rundown, two story frame building. Dean looked up and noticed some of the upper window panes had been replaced by cardboard cutouts.

The front porch creaked beneath their feet and the boards dipped down as he stepped across them. Dean followed John through the doorway, the kid following behind.

He looked around. The house was furnished with worn, old chairs and a slightly off-balance floral patterned couch. A few rag-rugs were strewn about. It smelled good though, Dean thought. Like pot roast or stew.

“You're back.” A blond girl stepped out from the kitchen. She was young, maybe twenty, and very pretty, with long blond hair and large, brown eyes. She looked curiously at Dean. “And you've brought company.”

“Jo, this is Dean.” 

“Hey Dean.”

Dean nodded shyly. 

“Come on Dean, we'll put our bags in my room.” John said. 

Dean noticed Jo smirking at the kid and shaking her head curiously. Sammy rolled his eyes and followed them into John's room.

“It's not much,” John said, “But it's home.” He threw his bag on the bed. “Just throw your bag over by the window. I'll clear out a couple of drawers for you later.”

Dean obeyed and glanced out the window. The only thing visible was dense brush.

“Dad?”

“Hmm.” 

“Is Dean bunking in with me.”

John looked over at Sam and smirked. Dean felt himself blushing. 

“Nope. Dean'll be staying in here, with me.”

Sam nodded, looking puzzled.

“Dinner smells good.” John said, sitting down at the end of the bed and reaching down to unlace his boots.

“Jo's making stew.” Sam said. 

“Perfect. You like stew Dean?” John asked.

Dean still stood by the window, glancing over at Sam. “Sure.” he answered.

“So, is Dean gonna be living here from now on?” Sam asked.

“Yup. Dean's a member of our family now.”

“Did you adopt him?” 

Dean looked up and scowled. The kid was irritating.

John chuckled. “No Sammy, I didn't adopt him. Dean's an Omega. He needed a family. He ah...he needed an Alpha. You know all about that stuff, right?”

Hazel eyes opened wide in sudden realization. “Dad...is he like your husband?”

“For God's sake, Sammy. No. We'll talk about it later.” 

John stretched out on the bed. “I'm tired. Why don't you take Dean and show him around, okay? I need to take a nap.”

Sam looked over at Dean and frowned. 

“It's okay.” Dean said softly. “I don't need to see around. I can just wait here.” 

In this strange place, Dean felt a strong need to be near his Alpha. What he really wanted to do was lie down next to him , and just hold onto him.

“Just go. Both of you. I have a headache.” John grumbled, turning away and burying his face in the pillow.

“Fine. Come on Dean.” Sammy said.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“This is Cally.” Sam said.

He reached down and picked up a calico cat who had been lounging in the straw. 

He had quickly shown him around the house and then led him out to an old barn, situated out back. It was a ramshackle structure, with missing boards in both the walls and the roof. There was a smattering of straw about and a loft overhead. The only resident appeared to be the cat. 

Dean reached over and gave it a polite scratch.

“You want to hold her?” Sam asked.

“No thanks. I'm allergic.” 

Sam smirked. “People always say that when they don't like them.”

“What, you think I'm lying?”

“No.”

Dean walked over and sat down on an old bale of straw. “What do you do around here anyway?”

Sam sat down, crossing his legs. Cally curled up on his lap. “I don't know. What do you mean?”

“Doesn't look like there's much for a kid like you to do, that's all.”

“You're a kid too.”

Dean scoffed. “No. You're a kid.”

“Fine, whatever.” Sam said. “Anyway, there's lots to do around here.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there's a river about a half mile from here. Sometimes I go swimming there or fishing with Uncle Bobby. He owns the salvage yard down the road a ways. I go to his place a lot too. He's got an amazing library. And there's a kid there I hang out with sometimes. His name's Cas. He's older though. He's like sixteen. And, sometimes I just come out here and read. There's lots to do.”

“Sounds exciting.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Well if you don't like it, maybe you shouldn't stay.” Sam said.

Dean looked down. “I have to stay.”

“Why?”

“Cause, I'm with your dad now. I can't leave him...I won't leave him.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and studied him for a minute. “How'd you get that bite on your neck?”

Dean pulled back his tee-shirt to try to hide it. “You don't need to know.” he said softly.

“That's a claim mark, isn't it?” Sam asked. “Did my dad do that?”

Dean looked back at Sam. The kid was making him uncomfortable. For some reason he was making him feel a little sad as well.

“Yeah.” he answered simply.

“He shouldn't have done that to you. You're just a kid.”

“No Sam. I'm just an Omega. Now can we not talk about this anymore? Please.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. I'm sorry. New subject, okay?”

“Fine.”

“So, you want to go swimming tomorrow? We could pack some sandwiches.”

“I don't know.”

“Jo'll probably come.”

“So?”

“She'll wear her bikini.”

“Sam.”

“Come on. It'll be fun.”

Dean frowned. “I don't know how to swim.”

Sam grinned in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah...really.”

“So, I'll teach you.”

“I'll probably drown for sure then.”

Sam laughed. “Don't worry Dean.” he said, picking up the purring cat and kissing her on the nose. “I got your back.”

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

“You know, I don't know what smells better.” Jake said, taking a deep breath. “Jo's stew or Omega heat.”

They were sitting down for their first meal. John at the head, Dean to his left. Dean looked down and flushed with embarrassment. 

“Jake...stop.” Jo said, glaring at him.

“Hey Dad? Dean and I are going swimming tomorrow.” Sammy said, looking over at his father.

“That right?” John smiled over at him.

“So Dean,” Jake said. “What's your story? How'd you meet up with this ornery old man, anyway?”

Dean looked up shyly, not sure how to answer.

“Dean was living with Michael Crowe, you know that prick from our last job. He decided he'd rather be with me. End of story.” John said, brown eyes narrowing in warning.

“You get our money?” Jake asked.

“No.”

Jake scowled. “No? What the hell does that mean?”

John sighed. “He couldn't pay. We'll talk about it later.”

“What do you mean later? We need that money John. Shit, I'll go get it. I guarantee you, he's got it.”

“We'll talk about it later.” John said, gently putting down his fork as he glared at Jake. 

“Yeah, we will.” Jake said. “But it don't take a brain surgeon to figure out what happened John.”

“Jake, please.” Jo said softly.

“Stay out of this!” Jake snapped. Jo lowered her head.

“You owe me five thousand, John. I aint paying for half that little Omega twink there. Unless of course, you want to share him, fifty fifty.”

John slammed his fists down on the table and stood up, his chair falling to the floor behind him. John was the head of their family. Jake was a Beta and no match for the powerful Alpha. 

“You show me some respect boy.” he said. 

Jake was breathing hard. He stood up slowly. “Come on Jo.” he said softly. “Dinner's over.”

“I'm not finished.” Jo said.

Jake grabbed her arm and yanked her up. “Yeah, you are.” he said.

Jo glanced over at Dean who was looking down at his plate. “I'm sorry Dean.” she said, throwing down her napkin and following her husband.

“You okay son?” John asked as he pulled up his chair.

“Yes sir.” Dean said quietly. 

“Eat your dinner.”

Dean looked down at his half eaten plate, having lost any interest. He felt an urge to run - just run through the woods and breathe. 

“Dad?”

“Yeah Sammy?”

“What's a twink?”

John chuckled. “Just a stupid name. I'm not even sure what it means.”

“Am I a twink?”

“Just eat your dinner Sam.”


	5. Chapter 5

Cas

 

“Come on Dean!” 

Sam sat on the raft, his feet gently splashing in the murky, river water. Dean had waded in and the water was now up to his waist. 

“Yeah, I'm coming Sammy, just hold on.”

Dean held an inflatable raft in front of him. It was their third visit to the river. 

A week had passed since that first night. 

Jake had barely spoken to him since, only glaring at him, his eyes cold and resentful. But Jo had been warm and friendly. And Sammy, well, he'd taken to following him everywhere.

And each night, as the household slept and the only sounds were the chirping of the crickets and the rustling of the trees outside the window, John would shake him, rousing him from his sleep. 

Dean's heat had passed, and the sex was different now. The urgency had eased and the pace was slower and less frantic. John took his time with him.

It was confusing. During the day John would speak to him warmly, tousle his hair and tease him affectionately. But in the darkness, his voice would become cold and distant as he taught him how to pleasure him in every way. And sometimes he was rough, pinching and biting him until he cried out. 

His dominance was well established. 

“Hurry up wuss!” Jo grinned, watching Dean. She leaned back, basking in the hot August sun. She was clad in a black bikini and her naturally fair skin was now tinged gold. 

“Don't rush me.” Dean snapped. 

“How a healthy, American boy like you, never learned to swim I'll never understand.” Jo said, laughing. 

“I'm not a beach kind of guy.” Dean grumbled as he plunged in, carefully gripping the inflatable raft. 

He felt stupid in the oversized swim trunks that Sammy had dug out of his father's closet. They were bright red, and reached his knees. When they were wet, he had to grip the waistband to keep them up.

Fighting his sense of panic as he felt the mucky bottom suddenly drop away, he kicked his feet and made his way to the wooden raft.

“See?” Sammy said. “You're getting better.”

Dean scowled as he threw the inflatable up onto the wooden slats and pulled himself up the ladder, carefully reaching back to hold up the baggy swimsuit.

“Hey Dean?” Sammy asked as the three of them lay on their backs, soaking in the sun's rays.

“Hmm?”

“We should go to Uncle Bobby's later.” 

“Well if you do go, you make sure you make it back before dark.” Jo said. “Last time John freaked out when you showed up late.”

“We'll get back. Besides, this time I'll be with Dean. Dad was just scared cause I was alone.”

“You know your dad Sammy, he thinks the woods are full of monsters. And it won't be you he'll blame, it'll be Dean.”

“Monsters?” Dean asked, brushing his fingers through his damp hair. 

“John's a hunter, Dean. There's things out there. He's seen them all.”

“What kind of things?”

“Monsters. Werewolves, wendigos, vampires...they all exist. John and Jake hunt them.” Jo explained.

Dean looked over at her doubtfully. “Vampires?” 

“Vampires. My Dad was a hunter. He got killed hunting a nest of vampires.” she said softly.

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “I've heard stories. I just never really thought they were true.”

“I saw a vampire once.” Sammy said. “She was ugly. She had white, shriveled skin and red eyes.”

Jo snorted and rolled her eyes. “You're so full of it Sammy.”

“I did. My dad had her in the back of the truck. He took her into the woods. I think maybe he killed her. I asked him, but he wouldn't talk about it.”

“Well, I've never seen one myself.” Jo continued. “The only monsters I've ever seen are the human kind.” 

Dean wondered what she meant. Jo wasn't much older then he was. She'd married Jake when she was sixteen. Dean could see the man was rough with her, and he'd noticed bruises on her arms and legs that hadn't been there the day before. 

Yeah, he kinda hated Jake. But he liked Jo. 

“You guys want to swim in? I'm starving.” Jo said as she stood up. Both boys glanced over. Her tiny bikini bottom had slipped down, and she quickly adjusted it, noticing two sets of eyes watching with fascination.

“Pervs.” she said with a smirk, and dove in, rocking the raft precariously. Dean quickly grabbed his inflatable.

“Come on Dean.” Sam laughed and soon followed Jo with a splashing cannonball.

Dean shook his head and carefully climbed down the ladder tightly clutching his raft.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

If one didn't know better, one might think Bobby Singer was a mean, ornery old man who hated kids and kicked the dog. But anyone who really knew him, knew that not only did he like kids, but he liked dogs and probably kittens too. Basically, he was an old softy.

Bobby not only ran his salvage yard quite successfully, but was the brains behind the success of many hunters. He knew most everything about the lore on the various monsters that killed innocent civilians. And he knew how to kill them.

When it came to research, Bobby was old school which entailed opening a book or a newspaper. But even he had to admit that the damned internet had some value.

Today, he was planted in front of his computer screen researching a series of brutal deaths up in the forests of Northern Nebraska. He'd pretty much concluded that he was dealing with a rogue Wendigo, and was about to contact a couple of hunters in the area, when a certain dimple-cheeked ten year old came traipsing into his library.

“Hey Uncle Bobby.” 

Bobby sighed and glanced up.

“Well what brings you around?” he grumbled, noticing another boy quietly standing in the doorway.”

Sam walked over and flopped down on Bobby's old leather sofa, picking up a worn old book that was lying on it and browsing through the pages. “Nothin, just hanging out.”

“I see ya brought a friend.”

“This is Dean.” Sam said with a warm smile. “He lives with us now.”

Bobby looked over at him thoughtfully. “Well, come on in boy. Let me get a look at ya.”

Dean walked in, glancing around. The library contained an array of old texts that filled the shelves. Some were even piled on the floor. The room itself smelled of them. Dust floated in the rays of light shining in through the worn, red drapes. Other knickknacks and an assortment of weapons were haphazardly lying around on the assorted tables and chairs. Yet somehow, looking at the apparent disarray, Dean sensed there was nothing that didn't serve a purpose. He picked up a leather-handled silver knife and admired it.

“Careful, that's sharp.” Bobby warned.

Dean gently rubbed the sharpened metal and hissed. A drop of blood dripped down his finger. 

Bobby chuckled. “I warned ya.” he said.

Dean put the knife back on the table. 

“So, you're Dean. I heard John brought home a young Omega. Guess you're him.”

Dean nodded, waiting for whatever comment might come next.

“Don't look so worried. It's none of my business what that damned idgit does.”

Dean smiled with relief.

“Is he treating you all right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hey Uncle Bobby?” Sam asked, looking up from his book. “What's is an Incubus?”

Bobby smirked and shook his head. “Something you don't ever want to run into. You can take that book if you want. Just bring it back when you're finished.”

“Okay. I'll take care of it.”

“Yeah, I know you will. I got a couple of others you can borrow too. I'll give em to you before you leave.”

He looked up at Dean, who was standing before his desk, looking down at him.

“Why don't you have a seat boy, you're making me nervous.”

Dean walked over and sat down next to Sam.

“You go to school Dean?” Bobby asked.

“No sir.”

“Figures. I guess they usually pull Omegas out early. So what are you gonna do when Sammy here goes back to school?”

Dean thought a moment. He'd wondered himself. “I'm not sure.” he said.

“You know anything about engines?”

Dean shrugged. “Not really.”

“Well you look smart enough to learn. Maybe you can come here and do some work for me...earn a little spending money.”

Dean smiled back. “I'd like that Mr. Singer.”

Bobby snorted. “Call me Bobby. We're not formal here.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. Thanks Bobby.”

“Why don't you go look around the yard. Meet Cas. He's my employee. You'll probably find him pretending to work on some engine. Boy knows less about cars then my great aunt. Sam and I have some research to do.”

“What are we researching Uncle Bobby?” Sam asked, closing his book and looking up eagerly.

“Wendigos. Been some attacks going on. You're better with this damned computer then I'll ever be.”

“Okay, cool.” 

“Go on Dean. Cas'll show you around.”

“Yes sir.”

>>>>>>>>>>>

Dean didn't know of course, that this would be a day that would change his life and eventually bring about his greatest joys and worst fears. And he certainly didn't realize, when he met the blue eyed, tousle haired boy, that his life had just taken a u-turn and would never be the same.

Fate is funny that way. 

The yard itself was piled high with old rusty cars. As far as Dean could tell, most of them were junk. Still, just like Bobby's library, there seemed to be an order to the piled wrecks. The worst of them appeared to be stacked around the parameter, possibly acting as barriers against the elements and potential intruders. He stopped to admire a buffed up red Corvette, and rubbed his fingers gently along it's smooth surface, glancing in at the leather bucket seats. They used real leather back then, he thought with admiration. He looked around and smiled softly. Somehow, this felt more like home then the small house he shared with John.

It was then that he noticed a person, well actually his back end, which was a decidedly nice back end, sticking out from under the hood of an old dusty, black Impala. He ambled over and heard a grunt and a muffled “Dammit”.

“Hey.” he greeted.

“If you're looking for Bobby, he's in the house. Knock loudly though. He won't admit it, but his hearing's getting a little questionable.” 

The voice was far too deep and gravelly to be coming from a sixteen year old kid. Dean tilted his head curiously. 

“Actually he sent me out here. Are you Cas?”

Dean waited until the young man finally stood up and, oblivious to any awkwardness , stood only inches from him, studying him with serious and very intent blue eyes. He had a smudge of motor oil on his chin. Dean tried not to notice the full lips which looked dry and in dire need of some chap-stick.

Dean swallowed nervously, slightly overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. 

“Um, you're Cas?”

Cas nodded. 

“I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. Bobby said maybe you could show me around.”

“If you'd like. But I have to warn you. This is a salvage yard. There's not much to see. Did you say Winchester?”

“Yeah. Dean Winchester.”

“You're related to Sam?”

“Um, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Dean smirked and stepped back, breaking the eye-lock.

“Yeah, sort of.”

Cas nodded thoughtfully, his eyes on the red bite mark, still sore and visible on Dean's neck. 

Dean flushed. “Well you're probably busy. Like you said, there's not much to see.”

“I can take a break. Are you thirsty? I can offer you a Coke.” Cas said.

“Um...”

“Follow me. I'll give you the tour on our way to the shed.” Cas turned and strolled away. Dean grimaced and then caught up.

They walked along the dusty aisle between the piled wrecks until they came to an old shed, the door hanging open. There were a couple of lawn chairs sitting against the wall and a blue cooler between them. Cas opened it up and pulled out a couple of cokes, popping Dean's open and handing it to him.

He was wearing baggy jeans and an old gray tee-shirt. To Dean's amusement he was oblivious to how his thick, black hair was sticking up in all directions. Dean had to fight the urge to reach up and smooth it back with his fingers.

“Thanks.” he said.

“You're welcome.” 

“So, why would you be interested in this old salvage yard Dean? Are you thinking of buying the place?” Cas asked, sitting down in one of the chairs. Dean followed suit, sitting down in the other.

“Maybe.”

“You seem a little young.” Cas said, smiling over at him.

“Actually I think Bobby was just trying to get rid of me. He and Sammy are doing some research.”

“Sam's a smart kid.”

“Yeah, he's smart.”

“What about you? Are you staying? Going to school?”

Dean snorted. “Me? No, I don't go to school. I'm not like Sammy. I'm just...” he shrugged, as though his meaning was obvious.

“An Omega? Of course, they would have pulled you out, wouldn't they?”

“What about you?”

Cas smiled warmly. “I'm through with school for now. My dad's a preacher. He has a little congregation – 'Church of the Holy Blessed'. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. I had no interest. That's how I came to be here. I was hitchhiking down to Florida when Bobby picked me up and offered me a job.”

“Florida?”

Cas shrugged. “I thought the climate would be nice.”

“So you fix up cars now?”

Cas laughed and shook his head. “I try. To be fair, I told him I knew nothing about engines and he said I didn't look too stupid to learn. Unfortunately I think I've proved him wrong.”

“He said the same thing to me. But I'm not too bright either.”

“You don't think you're smart Dean?”

“Like you said, I'm just an Omega. We're not known for our intellects.”

“I didn't say that. You seem pretty smart to me.” 

Dean looked down bashfully and then back up, his eyes locking onto Cas' . “Well, you don't know me.”

“Not yet.” Cas said softly.

“Anyway,” Dean said, rising out of his chair. “I should let you get back to it.”

Cas stood too. “There's no rush Dean. My work will be there tomorrow and probably next year.”

“No, I think I'll check on Sammy.” 

Dean felt a sudden urgency to leave. He needed to go home – be near John – his Alpha.

“I guess I'll see you then.” Cas said, looking slightly confused. “When you start your job.”

“I guess.”

“It was nice to meet you Dean.”

“Yeah, you too Cas.”

Cas reached out his hand and Dean took it. Dean noticed Cas' hand was warm and calloused. For some reason it sent a tingle up his arm. Dean pulled his hand back.

He turned and quickly made his way back to the house, not sure what had just happened. He only knew that he was feeling a sense of guilt. He needed to return to his Alpha. For some reason, he had a feeling John would not approve.


	6. Chapter 6

A Confrontation

 

“I wish you could come too Dean.” Sammy said. 

He and Dean were sitting on an old log at the end of the dirt road leading up to the house.

The morning was cool and a light mist of rain filled the air. Sam was dressed in his new grey pants, red tee-shirt and gray hoodie, his black backpack strapped to his shoulders.

“I'm glad I don't have to.” Dean scoffed. 

Dean had no good memories of his school days anyway. When he was younger, he'd been a small kid with an overly pretty face. The girls generally fussed over him but the other boys had often teased and bullied him. His mother had pulled him out when he was ten – Sammy's age. He was safer at home she'd figured. Besides, he'd be more helpful taking care of her house, mowing the lawn and working for her friends for minimal wages.

It was when he turned twelve that she'd gotten sick. The cancer had been quick and efficient, and she'd died only months after being diagnosed. That's when he'd been sent to live with his aunt and Michael. 

“You gonna go to Bobby's today?” Sam asked.

“I might. If John says it's okay.”

“If you do, can you return those books? There on the desk in my room.”

“Yeah sure.”

“I think you should go. You and Cas can hang out. Maybe he can start teaching you about cars and stuff. That way, you could go there everyday.”

Dean smirked. “You worried about me Sammy?”

Sam scoffed. “No. Just, you know, you could earn some money.”

Dean bumped him affectionately with his shoulder. “Well don't worry. Somehow I'll survive without you.”

“Shut up.” Sam grumbled, looking up as he heard the rumbling motor of the orange school bus approaching.

“You don't have to meet me when I get home Dean.”

“Yeah, I know. I will anyway.”

Sam smirked. 

“Have a good day Sammy. Stay out of trouble.”

Sam rolled his eyes as the bus pulled up. 

Dean watched as he climbed in and made his way to the back. 

Sam had been his shadow since the day he'd arrived. It was going to be lonely without him. 

He watched until the bus disappeared over the hill and then with a sigh, turned back and slowly walked up the old road.

“Sammy get off okay?” John asked, glancing up. He was sitting at the table, drinking his coffee. Dean felt the usual sense of unease as he approached him. The Alpha was getting worse. Dean absentmindedly rubbed the aching bite he'd left on his stomach the night before.

“Yes sir.” he answered softly.

“Good. I'm going into town this morning.” John said. “I should be back before he gets home.”

“Am I going with you?”

John looked up at him and smirked, his eyes flaring with disdain. “Why?”

Dean looked away and walked into the kitchen to pour himself a coffee.

“Do you want to come Dean?” John said, pushing out his chair.

“I thought maybe I'd go to Bobby's.” Dean answered softly. “Start working for him.”

“Is that right?” John said. 

Dean felt him wrapping his arms around his waist and his warm breath against his ear. John pressed against him, pushing him against the counter. 

“If it's okay.” Dean continued, pulling his face away.

“I think I want to fuck you little Omega.” John whispered. Dean felt a shudder of revulsion. 

“Jo and Jake are up.” he said.

“I'll be quiet. Won't make you scream to loud.” John breathed deeply as he slipped his hand down the front of Dean's jeans.

“Am I interrupting?” 

John quickly removed his hand and stepped back. Jake stood in the kitchen doorway, a smirk on his face. His thin hair was dischevelled and he hadn't shaved. He wore only his boxers and a stained, white tee-shirt.

John scowled and returned to the table. 

Dean breathed in a sigh of relief. For once, he was happy to see Jake. He reached over, his hand trembling slightly, as he grabbed a cup.

“Jo up?” John asked.

“Nope. She's tired out. Couldn't get enough of this last night.” Jake grinned and reached down shaking his crotch lewdly.

Dean crinkled his nose in disgust. 

“She's your wife Jake. Be respectful.” John growled.

“Yeah. You're right boss. You going in for supplies?”

“Yup.”

“Take Jo with you. She needs an outing.” Jake said, glancing at Dean.

“If she wants.” John replied.

“She will.” Jake said softly, nudging Dean aside as he reached for a cup.

“John?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“Hmm.”

“So, can I go to Bobby's? He said he'd pay me.”

John looked up at him thoughtfully. “No. Not today Dean. It's Sammy's first day at school, I want you here when he gets home.”

“I'll be back be...”

“I said no Dean. Discussion over.”

Dean nodded and glanced at Jake who was smirking back at him. 

“You leavin soon?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I want to get back early. Go tell Jo to get ready.”

“Will do boss.” Jake took a sip of his coffee, then placed the mostly full cup down on the counter. His eyes locked onto Dean's.

“Maybe Dean can make us some breakfast after you go.”

“Just clean up your mess.” John said, rising up from his chair. “Dean, you can clean up while we're gone. Our room's a mess. And wash the sheets.”

“Yes sir.” 

As Jake walked out of the room, he reache into his boxers and scratched himself. Again Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust. He heard John chuckle as he approached him. 

“He is kind of a pig, isn't he?” he said, trying to catch Dean's eye. 

Dean only lowered them as his Alpha moved in close.

John leaned in and kissed him gently. “We'll pick this up later, little Omega.” he said softly. 

>>>>>>>>>

Dean watched as the pickup pulled out, the tires spinning in the soft, gravel of the driveway.

The sky was growing dark and it looked like a storm was moving in. 

He sighed deeply, knowing it was just him and Jake in the house. Jake had done nothing to hide his hatred for him, knocking him aside when they passed and glaring at him across the dinner table. 

He glanced over to the west as a flash of lightening lit up the dark horizon and then counted to five before the thunder rumbled loudly. It looked like it was going to be a bad one. A cool wind was already rustling the dense foliage up on the treetops and blowing the leaves and dust across the drive. 

He felt a shiver as though someone had walked over his grave and quickly walked back into the house.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“Well there he is.” Jake said, startling him from his revery. 

He'd already stripped the bed, and thrown the sheets into the washer, and was now washing up the morning dishes.

Much to his relief, Jake had disappeared into his room and he'd heard him showering and then nothing.   
Outside the storm was now in full swing. He could hear the rain beating down on the roof and against the windows. 

He frowned and glanced back. Jake was leaning up against the doorframe, dressed now in his usual baggy jeans and black muscle shirt. 

“There's my little five thousand dollar investment.” 

Dean scowled at him and turned away.

Jake approached and leaned against the counter next to him. 

“Leave me alone Jake.” 

“So you worth five grand, Omega? You that good a fuck?”

Jake leaned in closer.

“Jake.” 

“Come on Dean.” Jake cajoled. “No one's here. I won't tell, if you don't.” 

Dean pulled his hands from the soapy water and grabbed the hand towel. “Fuck you.” he said softly, trying to push Jake aside.

Jake grabbed him and pushed him back, trapping him between himself and the counter. “Is that what you want Omega?”

“Get off me Jake.” he said, trying to push him back.

Jake laughed cruelly as he wrapped one hand around Dean's neck, the other reaching down for his belt buckle. Dean grabbed the beefy hand but it was like a vice, and he felt a rush of panic as he felt his air cut off.

“I will admit. You are one hot little piece of ass. John's a dirty old man, huh? You think I don't hear? He likes it rough, doesn't he? Shit, it makes me so horny. Poor little Jo gets no sleep at all.”

And then Dean remembered it was there, beneath the suds. 

Against every instinct, he stopped struggling and reached back into the warm water.

“That's it Omega.” Jake leaned in, kissing him forcefully.

Dean felt the sharp sting as the blade sliced his fingertips. And then he grabbed the handle. 

He thought he heard a scream when he brought it around and plunged it in.

And then he could breathe again. 

And then he ran.

He had no idea where he was going, and barely felt the sharp barbs and brush cut into his skin. It wasn't until he reached his destination that he stopped, pulling open the gate and splashing through the soaked muck between the piled wrecks.

He hammered on the door, falling to his knees.

It seemed an eternity until finally he felt gentle fingers touch his cheek and his name called out in a deep and gravelly voice.

“Dean!”


	7. Chapter 7

Shelter from the Storm

 

When Castiel Novak was a little boy he believed his father was God.

It seemed no one or nothing could be more powerful. His earliest memories were of his father standing high up on the pulpit, his clothing black and his long white hair flowing down past his shoulders.

“Fire awaits the sinners of this world!” His voice would boom across the group of adoring men and women all dressed in their Sunday best. “Fire and eternal damnation!” 

“Amen!” They would cry out to him. 

“The way to eternal peace is the love of God! Only through faith can you find fulfillment in this life. Only the love of God will raise you up to heaven!”

“Amen!” Again they'd cry out, some close to tears in their passion.

And Castiel would join them as they praised his father. 

And sometimes his father would approach him and ask if he was truly repentant and Castiel would say 'yes father!' and his father would smile and tell him he was saved as he'd proudly lay his hand upon his shoulder. 

And that's when Castiel knew that God himself, had touched him.

As he grew older he realized of course, that his father was not actually God. But he still believed that he was the personification of all that a good and pious man could be.

And he knew, as his father had often told him, that he would one day carry on the legacy of his father's blessing and burden and be a bearer of the word. 

It was a powerful responsibility and the thought filled him with both joy and fear.

His father, Father Michael as he was called, did not believe in the modern medical establishment. If one grew sick or injured, he was in the hands of God. If he flourished, then God had healed him and if he died, then God had simply called him home.

So, when Castiel and his twin brother James were born, it was not determined what their designation as members of society would be. 

There was no test to distinguish a Beta child from an Alpha child until they reached puberty anyway. Alpha's were relatively rare, but when parents saw that their child was particularly bright or seemed to be a leader amongst the other children, they assumed he would present as an Alpha. Most often they were disappointed. But an Omega was determined at birth. That is, if they were tested. 

Father Michael, being an Alpha, assumed his sons would of course, present as Alphas one day themselves, since they were destined to lead men and women to enlightenment.

So it was to his profound disappointment that James hit his first heat at the age of thirteen.

In hindsight he may have noticed that it had been Castiel who'd always been the dominant brother, the protector. But the thought of one of his sons being an Omega was so inconceivable that he'd simply chosen not to see. He was a good and righteous man afterall, and surely God would never punish him with such a burden.

But Castiel had noticed, and it had only made him love his brother more. 

It was on a Saturday afternoon, after a day spent with his father visiting his parishioners and sharing the word, the they had returned home to find James lying in the tub, the bathwater bright red with his blood.

The note he'd left, had been a simple apology to their father.

Castiel had sunk to his knees, his world crashing down. 

And when he'd looked up at Father Michael, he'd seen no sadness in his expression. His father had nodded and simply said, 

“That boy was weak and the doors of heaven will be closed to him.”

They buried James quietly and with no ceremony. His father said no words over his grave.

The next day Cas left. 

He simply packed his bag and gently closed the door behind him.

>>>>>>>

“Dean!” 

Cas cried out at the sight of the beautiful Omega, drenched with rain and clutching his bleeding hand kneeling before him, his head lowered almost to the ground.

He knelt down and gently lifted his chin.

Dean's eyes caught his, and Cas felt the familiar outrage that he'd felt when he'd looked down at another young Omega who'd owned his heart.

Dean's throat was red and he could actually see the bruises forming in the shape of fingers. 

“What happened Dean?” he asked gently.

“Bring him in.” 

Cas looked up and saw the old hunter Bobby standing behind him.

“Of course. Come on Dean.” Cas gently helped him up and led him to the couch.

Dean refused to lie back, but leaned forward, lowering his face as though in shame.

Cas quickly retrieved a clean towel and lifted Dean's hand. He examined the fingertips which were cut, but the bleeding had stopped. He gently wrapped them.

“That's gonna swell.” Bobby muttered, looking at his throat. 

“Perhaps we should take you to the hospital.” Cas said, kneeling before him.

Dean looked up, startled. “No. I'm fine.” he said. 

“That bastard John do this to ya?” Bobby asked. 

Dean shook his head. “No.”

“Then it was that other one, Jake. Boy's meaner then a damn pitbull.”

“They're not that mean.” Dean said softly.

“What?”

“Pitbulls. My neighbor had one when I was a kid.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Boy, you really think that's relevant?”

“Dean what happened?” Cas asked gently as he studied him. 

“Nothin. I...” Suddenly he looked up fearfully.

“What is it Dean?” Cas asked.

“I need to go back.” 

“Why?” 

“I...I just need to go back, that's all.”

“You aint going anywhere boy, not til we find out what's going on.” Bobby said sternly. “You think you can make it upstairs?”

“Yes sir. Why?”

“Cause you're soaking wet and shaking like a leaf, that's why. You go on up and take a shower. Cas here'll give you some dry clothes.”

“I don't have time. I need to go home.” Dean stood up. 

“Dean.” Cas said, gripping his arm gently. “You came here for a reason. What you need to do is warm up and then to tell us what happened.”

Dean shook his head. “No I...”

“Come on.” Cas gently led him to the staircase. 

>>>>>>>>>>

“I shouldn't have come here.” Dean said as he briskly dried his hair with the towel Cas had handed him.

“These should fit.” Cas handed him a pair of sweats and a black Henley shirt.

Dean quickly pulled on the shirt and Cas politely gazed out the window as he slipped on the pants.

“You're neck's bruised.” Cas said. “Are you in pain?”

“I'm fine Cas.” Dean said impatiently.

Cas sighed and sat down next to him on the single bed. 

Dean was not like his brother really. He was defensive and willful. James had always been placid, quietly listening to their father with awe, and him with adoration. Dean on the other hand, was not nearly so pliable. 

Cas smiled with admiration. Perhaps that was what drew him to the young Omega and caused him to think of him so often since that one meeting.

“So you want to rush back.” Cas said.

“I need to check. I think...”

“What Dean?”

“I think I might have killed him Cas.” Dean looked up at him with frightened and guilty eyes. 

Cas nodded. “Well, it looks like you had no choice.”

“There's always a choice. I had no right.”  
“He was assaulting you. I think you had every right.”

“You don't know.”

Cas took a patient breath. “Then tell me Dean.”

Dean looked thoughtful as he considered his words. “I guess...he was a little rough. But I still...Cas, I stabbed him.” he whispered.

“Good.”

“Cas.”

Cas gently reached out and touched the bruising. “Did he...?” 

“What?....no, no Cas of course not.” Dean blushed and Cas smiled softly.

“If he had, John would kill him anyway.” Dean added.

Cas frowned and pulled away his hand.

“Alright.” Cas said. “You'll stay here. I'll drive over and check.”

“Okay.” Dean said, “But I'm going with you.”

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. But when we get there, you wait in the car.”

“Cas...I'm not some damsel you know.” Dean snapped indignantly as he stood up.

“No...you are definitely not a damsel.” Cas said with a fond smile.


	8. Chapter 8

Good-bye Jake.

 

It was quiet when they arrived. It was just him and Cas. Bobby of course had wanted to come, but Dean had insisted that he didn't need the cavalry marching in with him. So Bobby'd agreed and promised if he didn't hear back from them within the hour, he'd be heading over with his shotgun whether Dean damn well liked it or not.

The storm had calmed and the sky was now a dull gray, the driveway muddy and undisturbed. Dean noticed Jake's red pickup was still parked up beside the house.

“You sure you don't want to wait here?” Cas asked as he put the truck in park and turned off the engine.

Dean scowled at him in answer. He needed to see himself. He certainly wasn't going to hide out in the truck. 

As he climbed down, he noticed the front door was still ajar from when he'd run. That, he thought, did not bode well.

“Perhaps we should have brought one of Bobby's weapons.” Cas commented. 

Dean smirked, suddenly feeling lighter somehow. It was nice not to be alone.

The porch as usual, creaked as they crossed it, only adding to his sense of unease. The interior was dark and shadowed.

“It was in the kitchen.” Dean said softly. Cas nodded and followed closely.

To his relief, Jake, or worse yet, Jake's body, was nowhere to be seen. Dean saw the carving knife lying on the floor. He walked over and gingerly picked it up. The tip was still covered with blood and he noticed some disturbing large drops splattered about the floorboards. He looked over at Cas, his heart now pounding. Cas reached out and gently placed his hand on his arm. “It's alright Dean. If he was dead he'd still be here.”

Dean nodded. 

“You're back.”

Dean and Cas both turned with a start.

Jake stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, a bloodstained towel in his hand. He was still wearing his black muscle-shirt and jeans. His face was ashen, his eyes bloodshot and slightly bleary looking.

“Jake.” Dean said softly.

“You stabbed me you little piece of Omega shit.” Jake growled. 

Cas stepped forward, tilting his head as was his habit. “Dean said you assaulted him. The hand prints on his neck lead me to believe him.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jake said with a scowl. His breathing erratic and shaky.

“His friend.” Cas said. 

“We should call an ambulance.” Dean said.

“Yeah? Call the fucking cops too.”

Cas looked over at Dean questioningly. “Dean?”

“We have to Cas.”

“Wait.” Jake said. “Don't. Just...just come help me. You got me in the back. I can't stitch it up myself.”

“You need a hospital Jake.” Dean said.

“Just shut up and get over here. You're lucky I don't have my gun on me...Omega shit.”

“If you call him that again I will shoot you myself.” Cas said, his eyes narrowing and his expression deadly cold.

Jake sneered back at him and scoffed. And then he nodded and turned away. 

“Just come fuckin stitch me up.” he said, as he made his way into John's room.

Cas looked back at Dean. “Have you ever stitched someone up?” he asked.

Dean shook his head.

Cas nodded. “Well, I suppose if we have to learn on someone, he seems like a good candidate.”

Dean smirked and followed Cas into the bedroom.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

“What happened?” John asked as he examined the bruising on Dean's neck.

Dean sighed and looked down. 

“Tell me. What happened Dean?” John asked again sternly.

“After you left...Jake...”

“Jake did this?”

Dean nodded. 

“Why?”

“Your friend attacked him.” Cas explained. “Fortunately Dean was able to fight him off.”

“And you are?” John looked over at him suspiciously. Cas had insisted on waiting and was now watching as John examined Dean's injuries.

“This is Cas.” Dean said.

John looked at Cas for a moment as though studying him. Cas stared back in his usual intense manner.

“Cas lives with Bobby. He helped me out today.” Dean explained.

John nodded, his eyes narrowing as he studied him. “Well, thanks for your help Cas. I think we can take it from here.” he said.

Cas nodded. “I'll go then.”

“Cas?” 

Cas glanced up, catching Dean's eye.

“Just...thanks, okay?”

“You're welcome Dean.”

They waited until Cas had left. Jo had gone into the bedroom to check on Jake.

John sat down across the table from Dean. After examining the blood on the floor, he'd picked up the bloodstained knife and now placed it on the table in front of him.

“So...you want to tell me now?”

Dean nodded and swallowed nervously. His throat was aching. He reached up and gently rubbed it.

“After you left...I guess Jake wanted to remind me, he paid five grand for me.” he explained.

“Did he rape you?” John asked, his eyes narrowing.

Dean looked down, intimidated by his Alpha's intense glare.

“No sir. I think...I mean if I hadn't used the knife. I don't know.”

“Okay, good. Are you up to walking down and meeting Sammy? He should be getting home any time.”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay.”

Dean quickly got up. 

“Dean?”

“Yes sir?”

“I take it you went to Bobby's today?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to let that go, under the circumstances. Just this once, okay?”

Dean looked back at him, meeting those dark eyes. Just for a moment he felt a surge of anger. But he quickly pushed it down. An Omega did not, ever speak back to his Alpha.

“Yes sir.” he said.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Dean!” Sam hopped down from the bus. 

Dean grinned back at him. The kid looked happy.

“Hey Sammy. How was your first day?”

“Good.” 

“Yeah. The chicks climbing over each other to sit next to you?”

“Shut up. No.” 

Dean tousled his hair. Sam pushed his hand away in irritation. 

The strolled down the old rutted road back to the house. Sam babbled on about his teachers, and the excellent additions to the school library...nerd, Dean thought...and the kids he might or might not have marked to be potential allies. 

It was as they neared the house that Sam stopped.

“Dean?”

“What.” 

Sam looked up at his neck, his hazel eyes narrowing in concern. 

“What happened to you?

Dean flushed and pulled up his collar, wishing he had on some sort of turtleneck.

“Nothing. It's okay.”

“Did someone do that?”

“I just fell Sammy.”

“You fell on your neck?”

“Yeah.”

Sam looked at him solemnly. “No...you didn't fall. Who did that?”

Dean knew that Sam would not let it go. It was Sam after all. So he decided to tell him everything.

“I hate him.” Sam said.

“So do I.” 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

John did not mention the incident for the next couple of days. He stayed close to his Omega and made sure Dean did not leave the house until he was back up to full strength, as he put it.

It was on the third day that he mentioned the hunt. An old associate of his had called regarding a possible haunting of a very wealthy old dowager's home. John said it looked as though it would pay extremely well.

He and Jake left in the early morning to get a good start.

It was the next day that he returned alone. Tragically, he informed them, Jake had fallen down a staircase. His death had been quick and painless.

Nobody mourned his loss really. Certainly not Jo.


	9. Chapter 9

Just a Little Bit about Jo

 

The hunting community is an old and established network consisting for the most part, of burly, hardened loners. Most who survive the obvious hazards of the job are Alphas, although there are some Betas who, by extreme perseverance or more likely, dumb luck, manage to survive and even make a living.

Women, and obviously Omegas, are generally discouraged and even banned from joining the brotherhood. Generally they are considered too weak both emotionally and physically to withstand the hardships and dangers. 

It's not that the hunters have no use or even regard for them, so long as they stick to their functions of warming their beds, bearing their children and cooking them a hardy meal.

Occasionally there is an exception.

When seasoned hunter Bill Harvelle met a cute little brunette waitress named Ellen, he could never have anticipated that she was far tougher and meaner then many of the monsters he had faced. She was also lovely and loyal and, if you looked hard, one of the most truly kind people he had ever known. Of course, he fell madly and deeply in love with her.

And when she decided that she would become a hunter, Bill did not object. Because, truth betold, she scared the shit out of him.

As it turned out the brotherhood, over time, agreed with Bill and she was accepted and even welcomed. 

As with every society, there were exceptions - hardened and well-established Alphas who simply could not fathom the idea of a female hunter. But, as stated, they were the exception.

For the most part, their hunting years together were successful and basically, they made a living.

In time Bill came to believe that his wife was as indestructable as he believed himself to be. 

Unfortunately fate however, can be cruel. 

Ellen Harvelle did not succumb to any monster, but bled out quietly in a hospital bed after giving birth to a chubby, blond child whom Bill named Jo.

Growing up the daughter of a single, somewhat embittered hunter, Jo was not destined to enjoy such things as pretty dresses, birthday parties or summer vacations to Disneyland. 

Still, her father adored her in his own way. 

At the age of fifteen, Jo dropped out of school. 

As a somewhat well-adjusted beta, she knew if she worked hard enough, she could be anything. She was bright, tough and pretty – all the things that helped a girl along. 

But Jo wanted to hunt. 

Her father however, had other ideas.

As long as she lived, Jo would regret that the last thing she had ever said to her dad was, "Go to hell, dad.”

She hadn't meant it of course. Everyone says things in the heat of the moment. And she had gotten that temper from her fiery mother. 

Still, when news got back to her that her dad had died – brutally killed fighting a nest of vampires – Jo had broken.

It was about a month after the tragedy, that a certain hunter named John Winchester and his young partner Jake Sinclair, happened to be in the area, and John decided to look up the young woman and pay his condolences.

He was surprised to find her living in a cheap and rather squalid apartment. She was clearly depressed and hiding herself away from the world. John decided, mostly due to his loyalty to his old friend, that what she needed was a handsome, young and ambitious male in her life.

And the obvious candidate for the job was his partner, Jake.

Well, as they say, timing is eveything.

Jake – a monster by most people's standards – somehow charmed, smiled and comforted his way into her broken heart.

So, at the age of sixteen, Jo Harvelle found herself caught up in a marriage with a brute and living with a hardened hunter and his rather adorable, nine year old.


	10. Chapter 10

A Kiss

 

“Well, she was a beauty in her time, I can't deny that Dean.”

The three of them, Bobby, Dean and Cas were studying the dusty old Impala that Cas had been struggling with on that first day when Dean had spotted that attractive, jean-clad butt poking out from under the front hood.

“You don't think she can be restored?” Dean asked doubtfully.

Bobby strolled around her, studying her thoughtfully. “Well son, she's really not worth the effort. The engine's had it, she's got some rusting. It'd just be too much work.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dean agreed.

Bobby looked over at him, smiling fondly. The kid was a natural. He'd been coming over for a few weeks now. It was Bobby's opinion that it wouldn't be much longer before he would be the one learning from the bright Omega.

“I suppose it would be expensive too.” Cas said thoughtfully.

“Yup.” Bobby agreed.

“Still, I imagine she'd bring in a good price if she were in mint condition.”

Bobby chuckled. “That's a big if, son.”

Cas nodded in agreement. “You're right. Not really worth the effort. It is a shame though.” 

Bobby frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Well I suppose if someone knew what they were doing, anything's possible.”

Cas thoughtfully nodded in agreement.

“And since, I seem to have acquired an actual mechanic, I guess there's no harm in putting a little work into the old girl.”

“I'd work on her on my own time Bobby.” Dean said.

“Damn straight you would.”

Dean grinned back at him.

“Alright then.” Bobby said. “Right now I need you workin on that Dodge. And Cas...you go do, whatever the hell it is you do.”

Bobby headed back to the house. He had some calls to make regarding a possible haunting in Upstate New York.

Cas gently slapped Dean on the back. “We'd better get to work.” he said.

Dean nodded and gently rubbed his fingers along the dusty black surface. 

“Awesome.” he said softly.

>>>>>>>>>>

It was later in the afternoon and Cas sat back in his lawnchair sipping his Coke. Dean was leaning against the hood of an old Dodge pickup wiping his greasy hands with a dirty rag. 

It was getting pretty much time for him to head home. Sammy's bus would be arriving within the hour.

The days were getting a little shorter now as fall set in. The leaves were just barely touched with oranges and reds, and cooler breezes were starting to blow in from the north. 

Dean had been feeling it lately. A warm flush. He knew, he was coming into his second heat. 

And he knew what that meant. 

“I want to thank you Cas.” he said quietly.

Cas looked up curiously. 

“I mean, well …. I don't know, just thanks I guess.”

Cas smiled and stood up.

“I'm not sure...what Dean?”

Dean looked down shyly. 

Cas approached him and reached out, gently touching his arm. And then he pulled his hand away. “What is it Dean?” 

“It's nothing. It's stupid. Just, sometimes you almost make me feel better then what I am.” 

Dean blushed and looked down. Damn, it must be the freakin hormones or something, but suddenly he felt a rush of warmth for this boy who'd helped him face Jake and laughed at his stupid jokes and looked at him like....

“You know Dean, the most important, the smartest, the best person I ever knew was an Omega.” Cas looked at him earnestly. 

Dean stood up. “I gotta go Cas.”

“Dean?” 

“What?”

“You'll be back tomorrow right?”

“I'm not sure. I think...John might want me home for a few days. I don't know.” 

He had to go. The sense of guilt was overwhelming. The sense of need even stronger.

“Why?”

“I don't know Cas, he just might.”

“You know he doesn't own you right?” 

Dean turned and looked back at him.

“Yeah...he really does.” 

Cas studied him for a moment. And then he gripped his arms and pulled him close. “No...he really doesn't.” he said. 

Dean leaned in and grasped Cas' face and for just a moment, it was quiet and dark and there was nothing else. 

It was not a long kiss – certainly no tongue involved – but Dean knew he would never forget it.

And then he pulled away.

“I'm sorry Dean...I shouldn't have.” Cas said, stepping away.

“I gotta go Cas.”

Dean turned and walked away quickly, along the aisle through the piled wrecks. 

He had to get home.


	11. Chapter 11

First Kill

 

John Winchester had a dilemma. 

He'd gotten a call from a hunter. He and his partner needed help taking down a vamp nest up in Northern Kansas. There was no money being offered, but rumors were that folks were disappearing. 

There really wasn't much choice, he owed the guy. 

But then there was Dean. His Omega was clearly going into heat and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave him home alone. Still, the kid was a liability on a hunt. Plus it was going to be dangerous and he really didn't want him getting hurt. And of course there was the biggest problem. He'd be camping out with two other hunters – two other Alphas. And these guys didn't play pretty.

“What time are you leaving in the morning Dad?”

John looked over at his son. Sammy had a huge serving of Jo's spaghetti piled on his plate, and a chin covered in red sauce.

“Wipe your mouth Sammy.” John grumbled.

Sam grabbed a napkin and swiped it across his mouth. “So, what time?”

“Early...probably before you get up.”

“What are you hunting?” Jo asked.

“Vamps. I'm meeting up with a couple of hunters.”

“Who are they?” Jo asked, laying down her fork and looking up with interest.

“I don't know if you know em, Jo. Guy's name's Danny...Danny Mullen. He's got some new partner...didn't catch his name.”

“Don't know im. I'll go with you though.” Jo said.

“You will, will you?”

“Why not? I need to start some time.”

“Not this time Jo.”

“John...”

“Besides, I need you to stay here with Sammy.”

“Dean'll be here. Come on John. You know I'm a better hunter then Jake ever was.”

John took a tolerant breath. He had no problem with women hunting. And he liked Jo. But not on this hunt.

“First of all, I don't know that. And second I'm taking Dean on this hunt.”

Dean snapped out of his revery and looked up.

“Dean!” Jo snapped indignantly. “I'm older then him. And I've got training. And besides, he's an Om...” Jo stopped herself. 

“Maybe you can come next time.” John continued patiently. “I want to start you out slow – easy hunts. “

“I'm not a kid John.”

“You know, your folks were two of the best hunters I ever worked with. So I got no problem training you. Just not this hunt.”

Jo frowned, glancing at Dean who was busy swirling some pasta around his fork. He didn't look up.

“Fine...this time.” she said softly. “But I am gonna hunt John.”

“How come you're taking Dean?” Sammy asked.

John sighed. “I'm just taking him Sam.”

“Why?”

Now there was no question that John loved his son. Sam was the apple of his eye and his pride and joy. Still...

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I said so.”

“That's not a reason Dad.” 

“Sam...just eat your damn spaghetti.”

“Fine. But if Dean get's to go, I'm going too.”

John shook his head as he studied his son's stubborn expression and remembered that first day when Sammy'd asked him if he'd adopted Dean. 

Dean of course was in no way his son, but somewhere along the way, it seemed Sammy had adopted a brother.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

The wave of heat seemed to rush up from his groin and Dean felt his face flushing. It was better this time though. The cramps were milder. The pills were helping. Still, he could feel the need. He needed his Alpha. 

It was a cool, Autumn evening. Dean hugged his sweatshirt around himself and stretched his legs out, leaning back against the porch rail. 

He glanced around and heard the reassuring sound of John's voice as he joked and watched television with Sammy. 

Tomorrow would be his first hunt. He knew why John was taking him, but he also couldn't help the feeling of anticipation and a certain excitement at going on a hunt. Maybe he'd see a real vamp. He could tell Jo and Sammy all about it. And Cas...well he didn't really want to think about Cas right now. 

“Hey.” 

Dean looked up, startled.

“Hey Jo.” 

Jo sat down beside him, nudging him with her shoulder. 

“I shouldn't have said that.” she said.

“What?”

“I know you know what I'm talking about Dean. And I didn't mean it. I'm sorry okay. Sometimes I just say things...”

“It's true. I'm an Omega. Omegas don't hunt. You don't need to apologize.”

“Well apparently John doesn't agree. You know, since he's taking you instead of me.”

Dean scoffed. “He aint taking me to hunt Jo.”

“Okay.... You know Dean...if you need to, you can talk to me about it.”

Dean smirked at her. “Yeah?”

“Sure. I'm older.”

“Well, I'll let you know.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway, on the hunt. Just... be careful okay? Keep your head down and don't get killed.”

“I'll do my best.”

“Cause Sammy'd be upset.” she said with a smirk.

They sat there quietly for a while listening to the crickets.

“Hey Jo.” Dean said.

“Hmm.”

“Do you think...”

“What?”

“Do you think John killed Jake?”

Jo nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah I do.”

“He killed him because of me.” Dean said softly.

“No. He killed him cause that's what he does.”

Dean looked over at her and Jo looked back at him as though the answer should be obvious. 

“He kills monsters Dean.” 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

They left in the pre-dawn chill. To Dean's surprise, John hadn't touched him the night before. Actually he'd slept out on the couch, only shaking him awake in the darkness to tell him to hurry up and get dressed.

After several hours of driving, they pulled into a small town called Whitehaven. It was typical of most rural towns – a wide main street consisting of a couple of grocers, a cafe, a beat up old hotel/tavern and of course the local hardware store.

“I want you to wait in the truck.” John said as he pulled up in front of the small cafe. An old, beat-up red Toyota was the only other vehicle.

“Yes sir.”

John turned off the ignition and sighed, glancing over at him. 

“These guys are tough Dean. We're gonna be with them for a couple of days. I want you just to keep your head down and stay out of their way, is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

Dean looked back at the grizzled hunter and saw only worry and concern in his expression. 

There was no doubt that John had been cruel to him and Dean couldn't deny his dark nature. Still he trusted the older man. John was his Alpha, and Dean knew he'd give his life to protect him. And there was no doubt, he'd do the same.

“Alright,” John said. “I won't be long.”

He slapped Dean on the knee affectionately and climbed out of the truck.

It wasn't a long wait. Dean watched curiously out the side window as he hummed along to an old Bob Seger tune. Finally John came out, his expression as usual dour. Two others followed. The first was a big man, with thinning gray hair and a white scar running down his cheek. He was dressed in full camouflage attire. Dean smirked. The guy looked like he'd just stepped out of some old Rambo flick. To his surprise the other hunter was a woman. She too was dressed in camouflage. She had long, blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked tough though. To Dean, she looked even scarier then the two hardened hunters.

They set up camp a couple of miles out of town. The woods were dense and a small river trickled past the campsite. John introduced the hunters as Danny and Tara. 

The woman barely glanced at him, too focused on her tasks, but the man, Danny grinned as he leered. John of course, scowled back.

“I see you brought along some entertainment.” Danny said. Dean blushed and averted his eyes downwards.

“Just don't worry about the boy.” John warned. “We need to stay focused here.”

“No worries John, I'm focused.” he said, still watching Dean.

“You better be. There's only the three of us. We check out the site today. If we're lucky, maybe we'll even get this done.”

“You leavin the kid here?” Tara asked.

“Yeah. Dean'll be fine. We should get back before dark.”

“And if we don't?”

“Then he'll wait in the truck and lock it.”

Tara shook her head and grimaced in disgust. “This aint no place for a kid John.” 

John ignored her.

Dean watched as they armed themselves with machetes and shotguns. It looked to him like they were going to war.

“Alright Dean.” John explained as he gripped his shoulder, his dark eyes focused. “The house isn't far from here. We're just going to check it out and if we're lucky, clear it out. But I'm gonna make sure we make it back here before dark, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

John looked down thoughtfully for a moment. “It's not going to happen son, but if I don't make it back, you just take the truck. It's fully gassed up and there's a hundred bucks in the glove compartment. You think you can drive home?”

For the first time Dean felt a tremor of fear. Of course John would make it back. He had to.

“Yes sir...but...”

“What?”

“Just...don't get killed, okay?”

John smiled and tousled his hair. “I don't plan to.” 

>>>>>>>>>>>

Dean looked up at the treetops as he sat by the trickling stream. The afternoon sun was below them now and the shadows were lengthening. 

He startled when he heard the rustle of leaves as some small animal scurried past. 

It had been an endless afternoon and it would be dark soon.

Suddenly it occurred to him that he could call John. There was an extra phone in the glove compartment. But it was only for emergencies and John hadn't mentioned it. Still...

With resolve, he stood up. 

It was then that the creature rushed from the darkness. Dean froze.

It was really nothing like he'd imagined, certainly not like the vampires he'd seen on tv. 

He remembered Sammy saying the skin was white and shriveled, the eyes red. Dean had only scoffed because, well...

But in life it was so much worse. 

Its cheeks were sunken and shadowed. The skin, pale and veined. And its eyes. There was nothing human remaining in the faded and milky irises. 

“Pretty.” it whispered softly as it approached him. 

Dean stepped back, his heart pounding. And then the creature grinned and he saw that it truly did have yellowed fangs.

And then he ran.

He only made it a couple of steps before it was on him.

It grasped his shoulder and flipped him onto his back, bringing it's face in close to his. It's breath smelled of rot and decay. 

“Pretty.” It repeated as it pressed its cool cheek against his. 

Dean pulled away in panic and revulsion.

And then, as suddenly as it attacked, it was yanked away. 

He watched in horror as the head flew off and then rolled away into the pine needles. A cascade of blood spurted from the torso before it crumpled.

For a moment he just lay there, breathing deeply. And then his insides clenched and he rolled over and vomited.

“Easy...easy.” 

She rolled him back over gently. 

“Did it get you?” she asked, examining his neck.

She helped as he struggled to sit up. “Where's John?” he asked, forcing his composure. Guys didn't cry, especially in front of this strange, tough woman.

“Just breathe.” She soothed.

“I'm fine...just...where's John?”

“Floor gave out. I have to go back for him.”

“You left him?”

She glared at him defensively. “Yeah he's alright...well, unless he broke his damn leg or something. We got em all...cept that one. I had to chase it down.”

Dean stood up and pushed past her. 

“We have to go get him.”

“Just cool your heals. I'm gonna go back. You wait here.”

Dean looked back at her, narrowing his eyes. “I'm going with you. End of discussion.”

She shook her head and smirked. “Yeah, I guess you're John Winchester's kid alright. Come on.”

As they made their way through the woods, Dean suddenly remembered.

“Where's your partner?”

Tara didn't look back. “Didn't make it.” she said.

By the time they reached the house, darkness had set in. 

The place was creepy. That was Dean's first thought. It was an old, two story frame house. Only scattered chips of the original white paint remained on the walls. Most of the windowpanes were gone, the few remaining, were broken and jagged pieces of glass. The interior was in blackness.

“You should wait out here.” Tara said. “It's pretty bad in there.”

She turned and headed in, shining her flashlight ahead of her. Dean followed.

In the darkness the blood splattering the floorboards and walls looked black. Bodies were strewn about...and ripped apart. Dean tried not to look at the faces of the heads that still lay where they'd rolled. 

It was the smell though, that made him gag - the strong coppery stink of blood and the underlying stench of rotting flesh. Dean put his hand over his mouth.

“I warned you.” Tara said with a smirk.

She led him into the kitchen. The floor was a massive hole surrounded by broken, rotted flooring.

“John!” she called, looking down.

“Down here!”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Broke my damned ankle.” John called up. “You get em all?”

“Yeah.” 

Tara looked around and noticed a door. When she pulled it open, she looked back at Dean. “Staircase. Better way to get down.”

Dean followed her.

“Over here.” John said as they stepped onto the dirt floor. The air was musty and damp. There were no windows. Tara shined the light around the room. The walls were cement block. Along the back were shelves, still containing old jars of black looking preserves.   
She shined the light on John. He'd eased his way over to the wall and was sitting, resting his back against it.

Dean rushed over to him.

“Dean? What the hell are you doing here?” 

It happened in a flash.

From the darkest recess of the basement the creature charged, screaming inhumanly. The flashlight fell from Tara's hand as it slammed into her body and then it rolled across the floor, landing at Dean's feet. Next to it, lay John's machete.

He didn't think. He picked it up and turned.

“Dean...No!” John yelled.

He grasped the creature's hair as he'd seen her do. And he swung. And then, for just a moment, he held the gruesome trophy in his hand before he threw it aside in disgust.

The warrior had made his first kill.


	12. Chapter 12

After the Hunt

 

He stood by the window. Outside the occasional car passed, otherwise the street was empty. The glow from the streetlamp shone through the blinds striping his naked body in light and shadows. 

The hunter lay in the bed waiting for him. 

He could feel his own burning need. 

He was an Omega...only an Omega. Bottom rung...

“Hurry Omega.” John called him softly.

Dean turned slowly and studied the older man. John lay back on the white sheets. His body was muscled and scarred. His legs gnarled, and furred. He was hard and ready for him.

“Dean.” John ordered softly.

He lifted his eyes and met those dark, hungry eyes.

He would go to him. The need was strong. 

But he knew. 

He would never cast his eyes down again.


	13. Chapter 13

There's a Bad Moon on the Rise

 

One of the first things a young hunter learns or should learn, is that when you start a job you'd better finish it. 

 

When Travis McFee was nine, his family was brutally murdered. 

It was a sunny, fall afternoon. He and Jamie, his older brother, were down by the lake, skipping stones and wading in the cool water. They'd only just arrived and his mom was still unpacking the groceries. His dad was preparing the bedrooms.

For as long as Travis could remember, he and his family would go up to the cabin once a month.

The cabin itself wasn't much. Just the two bedrooms, the kitchen and a bathroom. They didn't bother with hot water or tv. But that didn't matter. Those couple of days at the cabin, though short, would pass by in a fevered haze.

It usually came over him the first night of their arrival. Travis could feel his blood begin to rush through his veins, his skin would heat in a warm flush and then the shaking would begin. 

His mother would sooth him and his father would carry him into one of the bedrooms and gently tie his hands to the bedposts. 

“You'll be okay, Trav.” his mom would say gently, and lean down to press a kiss against his cheek. 

And then he'd watch as his father would tie his brother to his own bed.

When Travis would ask what was wrong with them, his dad would simply tell him, “When you're older son.”

Travis peered out across the lake. 

Most of the cottages were closed up. No speed boats roared by at this time of year. It was quiet - the only sounds, the chirping of some birds and a wisp of a breeze rippling across the glassy lake. 

He was just reaching down to retrieve a sparkling, white pebble when the sounds of the blasts jolted him. He stood, his heart pounding and looked up towards the cabin.

“Hide Travis!” 

He looked over at his brother. “Hide...now!” 

Travis rushed over to a rocky ledge and crouched.

“Stay there.” Jamie ordered. “Don't move til I come back.”

Travis waited, his heart pounding in his chest. 

He covered his ears as more blasts followed. 

Time passed and Travis just breathed in and out, covering his mouth to hide the sound, and watching the water as it lapped against the rocks.

Finally he took a shuddering breath and glanced up, over the rocky ledge.

The killer stood quietly in front of the cabin, his dark eyes searching. He was a big man, with black hair and faded, denim jeans. In his hand was a gun.

Travis crouched back down.

He stayed there until the sun set across the lake and the fever set in.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Fall had slipped away and the days were short now. The trees were barren of their leaves, and the white sky and snow-covered ground seemed to blend as one.

Travis crouched in the sharp brush. He wore a white jacket and hood. He'd left his car parked a half mile down the road and had walked. There was no wind, but it was cold enough that he could see his breath coming out in white puffs.

The blond boy had been standing there for a while now. He was wearing only runners and paced, stomping his feet. 

This boy wasn't his focus though. 

Finally he heard the rumble of the school bus. He watched it pull up.   
When it pulled away, there were two. They quickly turned and headed down the road and into the woods.

Travis nodded. 

He'd wait til later, when it was dark and the moon had risen in the sky. 

He'd waited twenty years. He could wait a few more hours.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Hurry up Sam!” Dean called.

Sam was in the kitchen standing in front of the microwave.

“And bring me a Coke.”

Sam scowled. “Fine.” he mumbled. 

He grabbed a couple of cans from the fridge and then retrieved the bag of popcorn.

When he walked back into the living room the tv was blaring with the sound of gunfire.

“You said you'd pause it.”

He plopped down on the couch and handed Dean his Coke.

“You've seen this ten times Sammy.”

“So? I told you to pause it.”

Dean reached over and slapped him on the head.

“Cut it out.” Sam said with a glare.

Dean smirked. “You know, you should just be grateful I let you stay up.”

Sam snorted. “Like I need your permission.” 

He re-focused his attention on Bruce Willis.

Dean stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth and sat back.

They'd had the house to themselves for a couple of days now. John and Jo were on a hunt.

It was late, edging on midnight. They weren't supposed to stay up past eleven. Sammy wasn't anyway, but well...

Dean looked over at him. Sam was wide awake and focused. He, himself could feel his lids growing heavy. He yawned widely. 

“Jeese Dean, cover your mouth.” Sam said in disgust.

It was then that he noticed it. He only caught it out of the corner of his eye, but he sat up, alert.

“What?” Sam asked.

Dean didn't answer, just watched.

Sam smirked and looked back at the screen. “Don't bother.” he said, shaking his head.

And then Dean did see it. It stood outside the window watching them. 

“Get up!” he snapped.

He grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him up. The thing slammed against the door.

“What is that Dean?” Sam cried. 

And then it slammed again. The door swung opened.

“Come on!” 

They rushed up the steps and into Jo's room. Dean slammed the door shut and pushed the chair under the knob.

“Dean...what is that?” 

“I don't know.” he answered softly.

From below they could hear it crashing about. Sam gripped Dean's arm painfully, squeezing against him.

And then, it was quiet.

“What's happening?” Sam whispered.

“Shh...”

The stairs creaked, and Dean knew.

He pushed past Sam and rushed to the window. 

“We gotta jump Sam.” he said, as he pulled it up. 

Sam was looking at the door, his eyes opened wide in terror. 

Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him to the window. He noticed a pair of Jake's boots lined up next to the bed and grabbed them, tossing them out.

“Hurry Sam.” 

Sam climbed onto the sill and hesitated as he looked down.

The thing was at the door now. 

Dean looked back as the chair fell to the floor and the door swung open.

“Go!” 

Sam jumped and Dean followed.

He slammed onto the hard ground and rolled, the snow doing little to soften the impact. But there was no time to catch his breath.

“Sam?” he quickly jumped up. “You okay?”

He rushed to him and helped him stand.

They were both in their sock feet. Dean quickly grabbed the boots. 

“Run Sam!” he cried.

In the silence, Dean could only hear his own gasping breaths and the crunching of the snow below their feet. 

And then Sam fell.

Dean rushed to him. “Come on...get up!”

He looked back. There was nothing but the whiteness and the black trees. 

“Dean...?” Sam sputtered as he stood, looking back fearfully.

“We gotta get to Bobby's Put these on.” 

He handed Sam the boots.

“What about you?”

“I'm fine, just put em on Sam.” he said as he looked back through the trees.

Sam stepped into the boots. Jake was a big man. 

“There too big. I can't run in these.” Sam said.

It was then that they heard the crunch.

“Go get Bobby, Sam.”

“What about you?”

“Just go...hurry.”

It appeared from behind the trees, dark and fast.

“Go Sam!”

“Dean...”

“Go!”

He watched for a moment as Sam ran, struggling in the heavy boots.

And then he turned. 

It was not fear that the warrior felt now. He was past fear.

“Come on you son of a bitch.” he whispered.

It crashed out from the the trees and then stopped only feet away. 

He could see the yellowed eyes, and the white clouds of it's heaving breaths. For just a moment their eyes locked. 

And then he turned and ran. 

He didn't feel the icy cold of his feet, or the sharp barbs of the brush as it scratched his skin. He had no destination in mind. But he was fast. 

It seemed he ran forever, the thing crashing through the brush behind him. And then suddenly the ground was hard below him. Ice. 

He slid, falling to his hands and knees.

The creature roared and charged.

Dean rolled over onto his back and waited, knowing that it was over now. There was no escape.

The sound of the crack was like a bullet. 

It reached out it's hand and he felt the screaming pain as its claws tore through the thin material. 

And then the ice opened.

For a moment he sank down into the cold, silent blackness, his body seizing with the shock of it. And then he pushed up and grasped onto the jagged ice.

It was silent and still. His shallow breaths were ragged, his teeth chattered. 

There was no sign of the monster. It had disappeared into the black depths.

He waited. And then finally he closed his eyes. His hands, frozen and numb could hold on no longer. He relaxed and let go. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Warm fingers caressed his forehead and gently petted back his hair. Dean opened his eyes. Gentle, brown eyes looked back at him with affection.

“You're back.” John said.

“I'm not dead?”

“For a minute Bobby thought you were.”

“Where's Sammy?”

“He's in the kitchen. I'll get him. He's been waiting.”

“He okay?”

“He's fine son.”

Dean closed his eyes. He could rest now.

“Dean?”

He opened his eyes and looked at John. John was smiling softly.

“Sammy told me everything. You saved my son, Dean.”

He leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

>>>>>>>>>>>>


	14. Chapter 14

It Had to Happen

 

John lay in his bed, warm under the woolen blankets. He held his Omega tightly in his arms, still knotted deeply inside of him. Dean's breathing was slow and even. He leaned in and breathed in his scent - the sweetness of his heat.

Outside the wind buffeted the snow through the trees and the windowpanes shook with its force. It would be a bitch clearing out the drive in the morning, he thought. 

It had been a over a week since it happened. Sammy was okay now, same old stubborn and happy kid. Kids were resilient. And Dean still limped from his ripped calf. But he was stronger each day. He would have a scar though.

He pulled him in tighter. Dean mumbled in his sleep and he reached up and stroked his forehead til he quieted.

He was gentler with him now. The Omega was special. A freak of nature really. When he'd first gotten him, he'd seemed to be the perfect Omega...shy, docile and pliant. A perfect toy to be played with in the night. But now he could see a change in him … in the way he looked at him. There was a quiet defiance. He admired it and he was not sure he liked it. 

Still, the boy had proved himself - twice now. He'd saved two people, his son being one of them. He would owe him for that, always. 

But the boy had to learn. He was still his. One day Sam would be a hunter – an Alpha. But Dean – he would always be an Omega.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was the next day. The storm had passed in the night and the ground was heavily covered with thick, fluffy snow. The piled wrecks of the salvage yard looked like they formed a fortress of white, snow-covered walls.

Dean was working inside Bobby's large shed on a very unsalvageable, rusted out Ford pickup. Currently he was leaned down, deep under the hood. 

Cas was assisting – well, really he was just enjoying the view. 

He'd been feeling some strange and disconcerting sensations lately. They were not unpleasant. Cas wasn't stupid – or naive. He was presenting as an Alpha. 

And he was an Alpha who was madly and deeply in love with a certain Omega. 

He'd wanted him from the first moment he'd laid eyes on him of course.

But Cas was not a fool. A claim was a lifetime bond. And it was unbreakable. Still, he'd wanted to believe that somehow...

But Dean belonged to John. He'd made that clear.

So, Cas had made a decision.

Dean stood up and walked over to the workbench. He grabbed a rag and wiped the greese from his hands. 

“She's a write-off Cas. I don't think we can fix her. I don't know what Bobby thinks we can do with her.”

Cas nodded knowingly. He wasn't really listening though. He was admiring the way a certain smudge of greese was lined up perfectly with the soft contour of Dean's cheek. And then there was the way the unflattering flourescent lights seemed to only bring out the green in his eyes. And the way his full lips....

“Cas.” Dean snapped. “Are you listening to me?” 

Cas blushed. “Of course...it's a write-off.”

Dean smirked.

“Unless you wanna work on her?”

Cas narrowed his eyes and frowned.

“Dean, I think we're both aware of my mechanical abilities.”

“I think you're getting better.” Dean said with a warm smile.

“Yes, well...” Cas looked down, and frowned

“You really are Cas.” Suddenly he noticed Cas' expression.

“What?”

Cas shook his head, and smiled wistfully. “It's nothing.”

“What is it Cas?”

Cas sighed. “It's just that I've been thinking, for a while now...I think maybe I should leave.”

Dean stood up from where he'd been leaning. “Why?”

Cas smiled. “Dean, there's really nothing for me here. I couldn't tell a carburator from a ...well, there you go. I don't even know what to compare it with.”

Dean laughed. “It don't matter Cas. Like I said, your getting better. So, you're not leaving. End of discussion.”

Cas nodded. 

“Besides if you leave, Bobby'd be pissed.”

Cas scoffed. “No. I think Bobby might be relieved. I don't want to be a mooch Dean.” 

“You're not a mooch.”

“Well...”

“Cas.”

Cas looked up.

Dean was looking at him, his eyes questioning. “I don't want you to leave.” 

“Well...I think I might Dean.”

“Why?”

Cas smiled sadly. “I think you know why.”

He nodded and turned away. Somehow he needed air. Somehow he needed...

“Where would you go?” 

“I thought Florida.

“Cause you thought the climate might be nice?”

Cas smirked. “Yes.”

Dean stood behind him now. He could smell the sweet scent of his heat.

He turned around. “Dean.” he said softly and then shook his head.

“Florida sucks.” Dean said softly.

“We can't...” And then he stepped forward and gripped his face in his hands. Dean looked almost frightened. But then he too stepped forward. 

Cas kissed him tenderly, tasting the sweetness. And then he groaned and pulled him in close as he felt the surge of blood to his groin. He was an Alpha. The hunger was strong.

His tongue pushed past those full, lush lips so that he could taste and touch and explore. He felt … heard a quiet moan. He pulled his lips away and nuzzled his throat.

“Do you want me to stop.” he growled softly, knowing he couldn't.

Dean didn't respond for some time. And Cas began to pull away. And then he felt Dean chuckle. “Fuck no.” he whispered.

“Dean.”

“I want you Cas.”

“But.” 

They were in Bobby's shed. The floor was cement and it was cold. This was not the place....not the time.

“Now Cas.”

Cas reached down and frantically fumbled with Dean's belt. Dean returned the favor. 

He yanked down Dean's jeans and roughly turned him around and pressed his fingers into his wetness...and then further in, til they were deep inside of him. Dean gasped.

“Now Cas.” he said in a shuddering voice.

“Dean.”

“Now Alpha.” Dean whispered.

They fell to their knees and Cas gripped his hips and pushed slowly into him. And then he sped up the thrusts.

He could feel Dean's pulsing need as he opened up to him

And then as his pleasure built his thrust became frantic. He pushed into him deeply. Dean pushed back against him and cried out. “Please Alpha.” 

He reached around and gripped him, rapidly bringing him to climax And then with a shudder he too came, pulling him in close. They were knotted. Locked together. He grasped Dean's hair and roughly yanked back his head. He would leave his claim as he knew he would the first moment he'd laid eyes on him. 

“No Cas. Please.” Dean cried out.

He didn't care. Dean was his and always would be. 

And then with a moan he stopped himself and just held him, breathing deeply.

“I'm sorry.” Dean whispered softly.

Cas wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.   
Dean was really only a boy still. And John had no right. 

They rocked , knotted and locked together. 

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


	15. Chapter 15

Reality Check

 

It started out as a lovely day, that early day in March. The sun shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky. The snow had melted for the most part in the salvage yard leaving the ground muddy and barren still. It seemed that life had fallen into a routine of two worlds for Dean – life at home with John and life at the yard – with Cas.

>>>>>>>>>>

 

“hmmm.” Dean groaned into the pillow. He lay on the narrow bed as Cas ran his fingers tenderly down his spine.

The mid-morning sun shone in through the white curtains illuminating the sprinkling of freckles across his shoulders. 

It was one of Cas' favorite pastimes – exploring. He thought he now knew every spot that made Dean chuckle or shiver. He leaned down and gently bit his shoulder blade.

“Stop.” Dean grumbled. 

Cas growled and bit a little harder.

“Cas.” Dean lifted his head from the pillow. “You're a freakin animal.”

Cas chuckled. “I guess you bring out the beast in me.” he growled.

Dean smirked. “Yeah?”

“hmm.”

“That's a line from some old Elvis flick isn't it?” Dean teased, lifting his head and glancing up at him.

“Maybe.” Cas looked up and met his eyes. 

Dean rested his head back down. “You are such a nerd.” 

“I want you.” Cas whispered, leaning down and sucking Dean's earlobe – a spot he'd learned had very positive effects. 

Dean pulled his face away. “Stop.” he said into the pillow.

“Why?”

“Bobby'll be home soon and we got work to do.”

“It can wait.”

Dean rolled over with a smirk. Cas narrowed his eyes and studied his full lips. 

“You know,” he said. “Your lips are quite extraordinary.”

“That right?”

“Hmm.” He leaned in and gently nibbled the bottom lip. Dean chuckled softly. “They're both esthetically pleasing and highly functional.”

“Is that a request?” 

Cas pulled his face away and looked into his Omega's green eyes. 

From outside they heard the rumble of Bobby's pick-up coming up the drive.

“Shit.” Cas muttered.

Dean laughed. “Get dressed.” he said. 

“No.”

Dean sat up, pushing Cas to the side. 

Cas scowled and pulled himself up. “I suppose we should get dressed.” he grumbled.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

It was that night that the hunters showed up.

John had hunted with Sean O’Neil back in the day. He was a solidly built guy with brush cut blond hair, dressed in the hunter's uniform of worn denim jeans, plaid work shirt and hiking boots. His partner was smaller, with black hair and a cool expression that never seemed to alter. Sean introduced him simply as Dave.

It didn't take long for them to break out the Jack Daniels and the poker chips. 

Jo and Sammy had slipped off to bed, but Dean sat at John's side. Just one of the boys, learning the fine art of poker. It was fun... well til it wasn't.

“And that's how you do it Dean.” John said with a grin as he pulled in the pile of chips.

“So Dean, how'd you hook up with John here?” Sean asked as he dealt out the next hand. He was a likeable kind of guy, with an easy grin. 

“Picked up Dean from a client.” John said. “Guy couldn't...or wouldn't pay up for a job. That's how I ended up with him.” John affectionately patted him on the back. “Not that I'm complaining, Dean's a good kid...great with Sammy.”

Sean nodded. “You're a lucky man John. Omega's are worth their weight in gold. Specially a good looking kid like Dean here.”

Dean flushed with discomfort. It had been a while since he'd been with others.   
“Hey, you ever meet a hunter named Bob Ruby? Older guy...tough son of bitch.”

John shook his head. Sean laughed. “You remember Dave...the poker game?”

Dave smirked and looked over at Dean, his eyes cold. “Yeah...I remember.”

“Anyway, Bob had this little Omega. Pretty kid, maybe Dean's age. I don't know where he picked him up. He didn't talk much...don't know if he was dumb or mute, but Bob had him trained pretty good. Anyway one night we're playing poker and suddenly old Bob starts to get all red in the face, his mouth is kinda hangin open, and he's gaspin for air. I'm thinkin he's havin a heart attack or something.” 

Sean laughed and even Dave was grinning. “Anyway someone hear's a noise under the table and we look under and shit if the kid's not giving him head...right there in the middle of our game.”

Sean was laughing and Dean glanced at John, who was grinning. 

“Damn, I decided right then, some time I'm gonna get myself one.”

It was not the story that sent a tremor of hurt through him...he'd heard worse.

“Well...I wouldn't do that to Dean here.” John said, glancing at him with a warm smile. “We keep it private. I aint one for putting on a show.”

“Nah...Bob was kind of a prick.” Sean agreed. 

“Like I say, I aint complaining though.” John said with a laugh as he slapped Dean's ass. 

“Dean why don't you go grab that bottle of Jack under the counter...we got empty glasses here.”

Dean could feel the eyes watching as he walked away. It had been a while since he'd been put in his place – reminded of what he was.

It was later that night, as they climbed into bed that Dean knew. 

“You see Dean.” John said softly, his eyes bleary. “You got it pretty good.”

He grabbed him and pushed him down onto the bed, slipping his hand into his jeans. “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Yes sir.” Dean said softly.

“But when it's just you and me...” John chuckled and pulled his hand back out. “Now why don't you put that pretty mouth to good use.” he said, lying back.

For a moment Dean studied his Alpha. 

He knew. It was time to leave.


	16. Chapter 16

Departure

 

He didn't leave the next day. It took some thought and some planning 

It was a couple of weeks later when that morning finally came.

They walked down the rutted road, the two of them, Sam wearing his backpack and his dorky Einstein t-shirt.

Dean glanced over at him - this boy who was in every way his brother. Sam was walking beside him, kicking up the stones. 

“Hey Sam.” he said.

“What?” Sammy glanced over at him and seemed to notice his expression. He wrinkled his brows in curiosity. 

“What Dean?”

“I don't want you walkin down here alone ever, okay?”

“I won't. Why?”

“Just promise me.” 

Sammy stopped.

“Why Dean?” 

“Because of what happened. There's things out there. You know that.”

“That's not what I mean.”

This was the hardest part, he thought. Everything else he could just turn his back on. But not this.

“Cause...I'm leavin.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm leaving Sam.” 

Dean frowned. How could he explain. Sammy couldn't understand.

“Come on … keep walkin. You'll miss your bus.”

“I don't care about the stupid bus.”

“Sam...”

“What do you mean you're leaving?”

“I mean I'm leaving. I can't stay here anymore.”

“You're running away?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah, I guess. I'm going today.”

“Does Dad know?”

“No...he doesn't know.”

“Well, when are you coming back?” 

Maybe he should have just left. It was too hard.

“I'm not.” he answered softly.

“So what...you're just gonna leave? I'll never see you again?”

“Of course you will. Sometime.”

“Can't you tell me why? Why don't you want to stay?”

“I just...I just can't be with him anymore Sammy. I can't.”

Sam looked back at him thoughtfully. He was smart. Maybe one of the smartest people he'd ever met.

“Fine.” he turned and walked away. Dean rushed to catch up.

They didn't say much more. There wasn't much to say really. They sat down on the old log and Sam glanced up the road for his bus.

“I'll keep in touch Sammy.” Dean said softly. Sam nodded.

In the distance they heard the rumble of the old motor. 

Sam stood up and walked away. And then he stopped and quickly pulled off the necklace that he'd worn since Bobby had given it to him on his last birthday. It was just some ugly silver thing with horns that hung on a string. Bobby'd promised it'd help protect him from all the uglies out there.

He walked back and handed it to him.

Dean smirked. “What's this?”

“It'll protect you.” Sam said solemnly. 

Dean slipped it over his neck.

“Thanks Sammy.” 

“I will see you again you know.” he continued, reaching up and tousling his long hair. Sam pushed away his hands.

“No you won't.”

“I will...I promise.” 

Sam nodded, watching as the bus pulled up.

“Remember...don't walk up here alone okay?”

“I won't.”

“Good. Cause I'm gonna check. Jo promised she'd always walk up with you.”

“I gotta go Dean.”

“Okay.”

Sam turned and then stopped. 

Dean had never been a hugger really. 

But just this once, he made an exception.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

He walked briskly along the gravel road, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. It was chilly, the last few patches of snow still visible on the forest floor. 

He hadn't been down this road too often really – John had pretty much kept him home, except of course, when he'd gone to Bobby's. 

He was going to miss Bobby and he'd been making some real progress on that old Impala. But he'd also managed to save up over five hundred dollars. It really wasn't much, but it would give him a few meals and maybe help pay for a cheap motel on occasion. 

He really didn't have a destination in mind. Although...well maybe Florida.

Finally he reached the highway. Hopefully they'd be able to hitch a ride. 

He was waiting of course, there at the side of the highway. 

Dean grinned and gave him a hug. 

Yeah, he really wasn't a hugger - but maybe just this once, he could make a second exception.

>>>>>>>>>>>>


	17. Chapter 17

A Momentary Respite

 

It didn't take them long to get their first ride. The highway ran south so they figured they'd just stay on it. 

She was a youngish woman, maybe early thirties, with short brown hair and a grim expression. She was driving an old red PT Cruiser. She popped the back open and they threw in their bags. Dean quickly ran around and hopped in the front, grinning over at Cas. 

He in turn, scowled and climbed in the back with the two preschoolers. 

“I don't normally pick up hitchhikers.” She said, as she pulled back out onto the highway. “But I recognize you boys. You two work at Singer's Salvage don't you?”

“Yes maam.” Dean answered.

“You've got funny hair. It sticks up.” The little boy, who was maybe four, with blond, curly locks of his own, staired at Cas with fascination. Cas nodded politely and stoically glanced ahead.

“Where you heading?” she asked.

“We're just going on a road trip...maybe down to Florida.” Dean answered.

“Well, it's just my opinion, but I don't think in this day and age it's a good idea to hitchhike.” she said, shaking her head in disapproval. “Anyway, I pull off at highway 35. I can take you that far.”

“That'd be great. Thank you maam.” Dean said.

“Well... again it's none of my business, but you know there's a lot of weird people out there. You boy's need to be careful. Danny, Todd...stop that!”

The two boys were wrestling over a small, army figure. Danny, ripped it from Todd's hands. It was quiet for a moment, the rumbling of the old engine and some BeeGee's disco tune playing softly on the radio. 

It started out as only a whimper, and then the two year old opened his mouth. Dean cringed as he broke out into a full wail.

“I told you to let him have it, Danny!” she snapped, glaring into the rearview mirror. And then she reached over to turn up the radio. She smiled over at Dean. “Sometimes you just have to drown it out.”

Danny looked up at Cas with a warm smile, and handed him the figure. He took it and nodded his appreciation. 

It's funny how twenty miles can sometimes seem like a hundred.

>>>>>>>>

They walked for a while and then hitched a second ride on an eighteen wheeler. 

The ate a roadside diner and hitched another ride with another trucker.

And then they stopped at a motel along the highway. It was nice, just him and Cas. They made love in the lumpy, soft bed. It was sweet and slow. 

For the first time Dean felt a sense of freedom. 

But there was something else too, something he wanted to ignore, but couldn't. It was a longing. 

He woke up the next morning, his body aching, little ripples of pain through his muscles – and a strong sense of yearning and guilt. He could feel the pull of his Alpha. 

He lay stretched out across the messy streets. 

“Hey Cas?”

Cas stepped out of the bathroom, towelling his thick, damp hair. And then he smirked as he studied him.

“What, again?” Dean said, smiling back. “You just took a shower.”

Cas grinned. “I can take another one.” he said. 

He climbed onto the bed next to him and slipped his fingers into his wetness. Dean shuddered as he felt that warm, pleasurable ripple. And then he rolled over – green eyes meeting blue.

He reached up and pulled his lover closer. “I don't think so.” he said with a grin.

Cas pushed him back down.

“I'm not giving you a choice.” he growled, climbing on top of him.

“You really are an animal Cas.” 

Cas yanked up his legs “I told you, you bring out the beast in me.” 

It was rougher this time...not sweet and slow like the night before. 

As he thrust into him, their eyes locked. And then Cas came with a shudder and collapsed, his face next to his. 

They lay there quietly for a while. And then Cas whispered softly. “You're going back arent you?”

“I have to.” he said.

Cas rolled off him and lay back on the pillows.

“Why?”

“I don't know.”

“That's not an anwer.”

Dean sat up and rubbed his messy hair. “I just have to.” he said softly.

“He doesn't own you Dean.”

Dean looked back into those blue eyes that looked so betrayed. He reached out to touch his cheek and then pulled his hand back.

“You need to just keep going. Go to Florida. Get some sun. Just forget about...”

Cas laughed. “What? You? Us?”

“Yes.” he said.

“I don't understand Dean.”

Dean stared out the window, the only thing to see, the highway and the woods beyond. “It's like...I ache. I don't know... its a physical thing maybe? Or...he's my Alpha Cas. I can't just dismiss that.”

“So what about us. Can you just dismiss that.”

“No. Of course not. I can't explain it. I just need to go back.” 

Cas climbed out of the bed and stood behind him. And then he felt his arms encircle him.

“Then I guess I'll wait.” he said.

“Cas...I don't want that.”

“I don't care.”

They stood there quietly for a while, the morning sun shining in through the blinds.

And then Cas pulled him close. “If he hurts you, I'll kill him.” he said softly.


	18. Chapter 18

Home Again

 

It was later that morning that a red Honda pulled over and picked them up.

Car salesman Jack Burnett was having a bad week. He'd not only lost his job at the Honda dealership he'd been with for over ten years but his wife had finally filed those papers. It seemed she had a little problem with Jack's one weakness. That was, his fondness for pretty young Omega boys.

So he really wasn't sure why he pulled over on that morning to pick up the two boys standing at the roadside, thumbs extended. Jack never picked up hitchhikers. But then again, there was something about the blond kid. Well, Jack thought as he got a closer look... with those pretty, delicate features … he just had to be an Omega.

“Thanks.” the kid said as he threw his bag into the backseat and then climbed in. The darkhaired kid then tossed his in and climbed into the front.

Jack pulled out onto the highway.

“Where you boys headed?” he asked, glancing in the rear-view thoughtfully. 

“North.” 

Jack looked over at the dark haired kid and was met by a very suspicious pair of strikingly blue eyes. 

He smiled back at him. Jack was a salesman...he knew how to smile.

“So, you boys on a road trip?”

“You could say that.” Cas answered. 

“My name's Jack by the way. Jack Burnett.”

“I'm Cas.” 

“And what about your friend. Does he have a name?” He glanced again at the mirror.

“I'm Dean.”

“Dean. Nice name. You an Omega, Dean?”

Dean answered quietly. “Yes sir.”

Jack grinned. “Yeah I thought so.”

He glanced over at Cas who was watching him, eyes narrowed.

Jack laughed. “Now you, if I'm not mistaken, and I seldom am, you might be an Alpha. I can tell by that look your giving me right now.”

Cas nodded and said nothing.

“Well you don't need to look so worried. I'm no threat to your little Omega back there.”

“You know, I think you need to pull over and let us out.” Cas replied calmly. 

“Now don't get all worked up.” Jack said. “Like I say, I'm no threat. I'm just a salesman...never hurt a fly.”

“Just pull over.” Cas said.

“Look, here's the deal.” Jack continued. “You boys are probably hurting for money. Now, I don't have a lot...but I can come up with maybe a hundred. We just pull over and you look the other way for what? Twenty minutes... tops.” Jack laughed. “Okay, I'm flattering myself. Maybe ten.”

Jack looked back at Cas his grin faltering a little. There was something in the young Alpha's eyes. 

“Fuck...fine.” he pulled over the car.

Cas stepped out and pulled forward the seat. After Dean climbed out and he retrieved the bags, he walked around the front of the car. Jack watched curiously. “Hey...close the door.” he called out to Dean.

Cas gently opened the driver's door. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked in surprise as he suddenly reached over and pulled the keys from the ignition. 

“Look...I'm sorry, okay?” he said and then he felt the boy's hands gripping his throat. 

“Hey!” Jack cried out. 

“Cas...stop!” he heard the other kid cry out. 

Jack clutched at the hands, trying to pull them off. “Please...” he pleaded.

“Cas...let him go.” 

Jack felt the grip loosen. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please just give me my keys.” 

Cas tossed them onto his lap. “Leave.” he said. Jack quickly put the keys back in the ignition and hit the gas. 

Yeah, Jack was definitely having a bad week.

 

>>>>>>>>>>

“What the hell was that Cas?” Dean asked as they watched the Honda disappear down the highway. 

“What?”

“What?”

Cas looked confused. “He was rude.”

“He was rude?”

“Dean, do you have a question or are you just repeating everything I say?”

Dean grinned. “You know, you're kind of scary when your pissed.”

Cas grinned back. “Thank you.” he said, reaching down to grab his bag.

Dean looked at him for a moment and then shrugged and picked up his own bag. “You're welcome.” 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was several hours later. The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the western treetops.

Dean looked up at the NO TRESPASSING sign and smiled. For better or for worse, he was home. 

He'd left Cas back at the highway. He needed to face this alone.

He lifted his duffel bag and swung it onto his back. 

The gate opened with a creak and he stepped through. 

He stopped for a moment and looked at the old, frame house and then he took a deep breath and headed across the gravel drive.

“Dean?” Sam grinned and looked up from the dinner table. Jo turned and smirked, shaking her head. And John watched, his dark eyes showing nothing, just like the poker player he was.

“You're back.” Sam jumped up and ran up to him, stopping himself before hugging him. He looked at him questioningly. “I thought...you said you weren't coming back.”

Dean shrugged and grinned. “I changed my mind.”

Sam chewed his lower lip. “How come?”

“Because. Don't you want me back?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Maybe...” and then he grinned. “Yeah, I guess you can come back.”

Dean rolled his eyes. 

“We're just sitting down to dinner Dean. Have you eaten yet?” 

“No sir.”

“Grab a plate. Jo's made stew.” 

He dropped his bag to the floor and walked into the kitchen. He could feel him watching. 

“So where did you go?” Sam asked as Dean ladled out a serving of stew. 

Dean flushed. “Just...a little trip.”

“You went on a little trip?” John asked.

“Yes sir.”

“And then you just decided to come back?”

“I guess... if you'll let me.”

“You needed a break did you?”

“I guess.”

Dean sat down and tasted the stew. It seemed to have no flavor.

“So where did you go Dean?” Sammy asked.

“Stop interrogating him Sammy.” Jo said. “We're just glad your back Dean.”

“We'll talk about it later.” John said.

“I was just asking where he went.” Sam said defensively, giving Jo a rather bitchy glare.

Jo glared back with a warning look.

“It doesn't matter.” John said. “We're just glad your back son.” 

Dean looked up and met his eyes. They were not full of fury. John smiled, that special smile of his, and then looked back down at his dinner. 

>>>>>>>>>>>

It was much later. They lay quietly in the darkness. John held his young Omega tightly in his arms as he stroked his soft hair. 

“I was doing some thinking Dean.”

He pushed into the wetness with a shudder and pulled him closer.

“I'm thinking the reason you left is maybe you need more. Clearly you're not happy.”

“I'm happy Alpha.” Dean whispered.

“How'd you like to hunt? I could start training you...easy hunts to start. You could alternate with Jo.”

Dean was quiet for a while as he let his Alpha hold him.

“I'd like that.” he finally answered.

John leaned in and suckled his neck. “Good.” he whispered.

>>>>>>>>

It was one of Betty Summer's biggest regrets...buying the damned motel in the first place. It certainly cost more to run then she ever made with it. She was sipping her morning coffee and thinking about whether or not just to go ahead and list the damned thing, when the bell above the door of the office tinkled. With a sigh, she put down her coffee.

The man who entered was rough looking, a little intimidating she thought. But then he smiled and her tension eased.

“Hi. You need a room?” she asked.

He stepped up to the desk. “Mornin.” he said. “Actually I'm not looking for a room today.”

Betty looked back curiously. “So, how can I help you?”

“I'm looking for my son. He took off a couple of weeks ago. I'm just wondering if he might have stayed here.”

“A couple of weeks ago you say?”

“Probably about a week. It's a long shot, but I need to check. He's fifteen...dark blond hair.”

Betty smiled. “Sure, I think I remember.”

She shuffled through the register. “There were two of them. Him and his friend. Nice looking boys. Let's see...signed in as Warren Smith?”

John nodded. “Can you tell me what his friend looked like? When he left, he was alone.”

“Oh he was a nice looking boy. Dark hair and the prettiest blue eyes. They were both nice looking boys.” she said with a smile.

“Well...that's great.” John said. “I appreciate your help.”

“I hope they're alright.” Betty said.

John nodded and thanked her.

A nice man, Betty thought as she watched him leave. Hopefully he'd catch up to the boy. 

She went back to finish her coffee.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>


	19. Chapter 19

Before the Hunt

 

They relaxed on the checkered blanket. The spring was in bloom now, the trees full and green, the air crisp. Cas lay back, his wool coat folded under his head and Dean stretched out his legs in front of him, thoughtfully looking out, at the lake.

They met now when they could, but it wasn't often. John had forbidden him to return to the salvage yard, at least for a while. But Dean understood. He'd defied him, shown disrespect. The punishment was fair. Still...John did go away on hunts. These were the stolen times – just him and Cas.

“Bobby's been training me.” Cas said. His eyes were closed, his arm folded under his head.

Dean glanced down at him. “What do you mean?”

“To hunt. Well, in theory anyway.”

Dean lay back, resting his head on Cas' stomach. Above them the sky was bright blue and clear. Cas reached up, gently running his fingers through his hair. 

“You want to hunt?” Dean asked.

“I have to do something with my life Dean. I think I'd like to. I can shoot, throw a knife...it may not stick yet but at least I'm hitting the tree now, and Bobby's even shown me some interesting wrestling moves. I've also learned more then I ever wanted to know about vampires, werewolves ... demons.”

Dean chuckled. “Demons Cas? Really.”

“Bobby says they're real.”

“So how do you kill a demon?” Dean asked.

“Well first you trap him in a devil's trap...it's a closed circle with a star and some mystical symbols.”

“And what do you do with it once you trap it?”

“You exorcise it. There's a whole litany involved. The hard part's the trapping.”

Dean rolled over onto his side. “Yeah?”

“Yes. And if you can, you should try...”

“I don't think you should hunt Cas.” he interrupted.

Cas sat up and leaned back on his elbows. “Why not?”

“Well first, hunters get killed. And second, you're...I don't know, gentle.”

Cas smirked. “Gentle?”

Dean rested his chin on his hand, as he studied him. “Hunters get ...mean. I don't want you to change.”

“You think I'll turn into John?”

“Don't say that. You don't even know him.”

“I think I know how he treats you.” Cas rolled onto his side, his eyes, as always, searching.

Dean frowned back. “He treats me fine.”

“He doesn't treat you fine Dean. He uses you. He treats you like...I don't know, how do I put it?”

“Like what I am?”

“No. He treats you like what he thinks you are. Like you're lesser somehow.”

“That's how most people think.”

“I don't.”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, well...most people don't think like you I guess.”

“Most people don't know you.”

“Anyway Cas, you shouldn't hunt. Be a mechanic or a waiter or, I don't know a doctor , it's safer.”

Cas chuckled. “A doctor?”

“Yeah. You're smart. You could go back to school.”

“Dean.” he pulled him close and gently kissed him. “I have no interest in being a doctor or a waiter. And I'm not even going to discuss being a mechanic.”

“Fine.” Dean said, lying back. “You'll do what you want.”

Cas chuckled. “Right now, I want you.”

He leaned down and kissed him. 

“Cas don't. I want to talk about this.” 

And then he kissed him again. And they made love on the beach. And then they lay there quietly til it was time for Dean to leave and go meet Sammy.

 

>>>>>>>>>

 

If Dean had been older and wiser, he might have better understood a man like John. Bobby would have of course. He would have understood that John would have needed to know...and, being a hunter, would know how to find out. And he would also have known that he was not the forgiving type

 

>>>>>>>>>

It was a couple of weeks later. It was Dean's turn to go with John.

He'd been on a couple of hunts now. The first, a simple salt and burn. Much to Dean's disapointment, no ghost showed up. John had collected a nice fee though. 

And then the second had been some possible vampire activity. But the police had apprehended the culprit who was just some psycho who had delusions of being an immortal. John told him, sometimes that happened.

This was a big one John said. A coven of witches. People were disappearing. Other hunters were involved. 

It was the night before the hunt. John was tense. He snapped at Sammy and then finally sent him, stomping up to his room. When Jo had asked questions he'd snapped at her too. 

“You're not in on this hunt Jo, stop bothering me about it.”

“I just want to know, John. Who're the other hunters involved. It's not a hard question.”

“You don't know em.” 

“I might.”

“They're from out of state. I don't even know them.”

“Well... how'd they get your name then?”

“Why? What difference does that make?”

Jo'd laughed. “It doesn't make a difference. I just want to know.”

“Well drop it!” 

“Come on Dean.” he growled as he pushed past him. “We've got to pack.”

Jo had looked at him, her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Shit.” she muttered.

 

>>>>>>>>>

 

“Make sure you bring some warm clothes...your sweater, not just those hoodies you like to wear.”

Dean rummaged through his drawer.

“Yes sir.” 

Dean glanced back at him. 

John sat on the bed, watching him. 

“Turn around.” he said.

He looked at him curiously and then turned.

“You're filling out.” he nodded with approval. “I think you've grown too.”

He rubbed his face as though he were tired, his eyes bleary. “Why don't you go get washed up, we need to get an early start.”

“Yes sir.” 

 

>>>>>>>>>>

 

It was later that night... they lay in their bed. Outside it was dark and still. There was only a gentle breeze which ruffled the curtains and chilled the room. 

“Come here.” John whispered softly.

He slid over and John pulled him close

He lay his head on his chest and could feel the rise and fall of it beneath his cheek. 

“You know Dean,” John whispered softly. “ I remember the first time I laid eyes on you. Damn, you were a beautiful kid. That dick Michael said you were, but I wasn't expecting you.”

Dean snuggled in closer. He felt warm in the arms of his Alpha.

“You know, I'll be honest, I never really cared for Omegas. I always figured you were weak, kind of rejects. I mean if Sammy'd been born one, I don't know what I would have done. But then... you. The way you glared back at me, I thought, shit this kid's got a little grit.” 

“And man, when you killed that vamp.” He felt him chuckle. “You weren't even scared, were you?”

“I was a little.”

“No, I didn't see fear. You just acted...did what needed to be done. You know what that is?”

“What?”

“That's a hunter Dean. You know, I think one day you could be a great hunter ...maybe one of the best.”

Dean smiled softly, not knowing that those were the words he'd so wanted to hear – had waited to hear. The pride in his Alpha's – in John's voice. 

“Tell me son, the first time you saw me. What did you think?”

“I knew you'd help me. I wanted to go with you.”

“Do you remember what I told you that first night?” John asked as he gently brushed back his hair.

“No.”

“I told you I'd never hurt you.”

John pushed him gently off and he lay back, against the cool pillow. 

And then John leaned in close. He could feel the heat of his breaths on his cheek...on his lips. 

“Have I ever hurt you Dean?” he asked softly.

“No.” 

“I guess, sometimes I played a little rough with you. But I never really hurt you, did I?”

“No Alpha.”

John pressed his lips against his and gently kissed him. Dean could taste the whiskey- feel the rough bristles of his stubble. 

And then John pulled his lips away and gently caressed his cheek. “Is this what you wanted Dean?” he asked. 

And then once again, he pressed his lips against his, harder this time, pushing in his tongue – tasting, exploring every crevice. Dean could hear his deep breathing, feel his heat and his bulk as he pressed against him. It was both suffocating and arousing.

He felt the rush of his own blood, the warm flush of heat. He wrapped his arms around him.

And as he kissed him, John reached down and caressed him, gently at first and then harder and faster. 

It was hard to breathe – Dean felt buried beneath him. 

“Is this what you needed?” John whispered as he brought him to climax. Dean gasped, his body arching with the pleasure. And then he came, shooting out into his hand. “Yes.” he gasped. 

He could feel his own wetness dripping down between his legs. 

The mattress dipped as John climbed onto him and then roughly pushed up his legs and sank into him.

He took him hard and fast. His thrusts brutal. And then Dean felt the surge of heat as he filled him. He gripped onto him tightly, frozen with the pleasure of it and then John took a shuddering breath and rested his full weight on top of him. 

Dean held onto him til his breathing calmed and his racing heart slowed.

And then John rolled off of him and rested back on his own pillow.

They lay there quietly for a while. 

Dean felt his lids grow heavy as he began to drift off.

“I stopped by Bobby Singer's place today.” John said.

He opened his eyes, suddenly alert.

“Why?” he asked.

“Bobby's an old hunter. I thought he might have some advice on this hunt.”

“What'd he say?”

“Well, he said if they're killing innocent people, they need to be taken down. But they're still people, so just make damn sure.”

“I don't think I could kill another person...no matter what they did.” Dean said. 

John rolled away and turned his back to him.

“Well, it won't come to that. But I think you could Dean. If you had to, I think you could.”

“Did he say anything else.”

“No. He said I shouldn't be taking you. I think you can handle it though. And I had a little talk with that kid he's got staying with him.”

“Cas?”

“Yeah, Cas. I remembered him. He's the kid who helped you out that time with Jake. Anyway, he said he wanted to come....promised he'd stay out of the way. Looks like he wants to be a hunter.”

Dean felt it then...a ripple of fear down his spine.

“He's never been on a hunt has he?” he asked.

John chuckled. “That's what I said. But then I thought, the kid seems bright enough...strong. Might be good to have another backup. So I told him I'd think about it.”

It was then that Dean felt it. An understanding. 

“So, are we taking him?” he asked.

John yawned. “Damn, I'm tired. I don't know son, maybe. I told him we'd pull in and pick him up in the morning if I decided. Anyway, we better get some sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow.”


	20. Chapter 20

Revenge 

 

They sat side by side, waiting in the truck. Cas grasped his hand and Dean quickly pushed it away. “Don't” he snapped.

John had run in to grab some coffees and call another hunter regarding the hunt. They'd stopped by Bobby's first thing. Cas had been ready. 

“What the hell Cas?” he glared at him. 

“What?” 

“Why are you here?”

“I told you, I'm want to hunt. This is the best training.”

“You shouldn't have come.” 

He took a deep breath as he watched John, who was pacing in agitation and talking into his phone. 

“Dean...”

“I think maybe he's planning something.” he said.

“What do you mean... planning something?”

“He knows about us Cas. And I think... he plans to kill you.”

Cas scoffed. “I doubt that Dean. Why do you think he knows about us anyway.”

“He's smart. He's figured it out.”

“Well, if he has, then good.”

“It's not good. You don't know him.” 

Dean watched as the older hunter opened the door and stepped into the convenience shop.

“Dean, if he does know about us, I'm glad.”

“But Cas....”

“If you really believe that, then I'm glad I came.”

“Why, so you can get shot in the back?”

“No. Look, you defend him all the time. And now, you tell me he wants to kill me. You need to decide.”

Dean looked into his eyes. Cas didn't know about Jake...didn't know what John was capable of.

“I just need you to watch your back Cas.” he said. 

“I'll watch yours and mine .”

“Cas..”

“I know you think I underestimate him. I don't... I know what a man like him is capable of.”

“Then why the hell did you come? Do you want to get killed?”

“I had to Dean.” Cas sighed thoughtfully and then continued. “ I know you think he's jealous or hurt. But I don't think it's that. He owns you...or, he thinks he owns you. This is about pride and arrogance.” He gently touched his hand and looked into his eyes. “You need to understand that...and then I think, you can walk away.”

The door opened and Cas pulled his hand away. 

John climbed in, handing them their coffees. He threw a box of donuts on Dean's lap. 

“Hope you boys took care of everything you need to. We've got a long drive ahead.”

He glanced over at them for a moment, then turned the ignition and revved up the powerful engine. “We're meeting the other hunters up at Bruce Falls. That's where the ritual takes place.”

“What kind of ritual?” Dean asked.

“Meeting of the coven.” he answered as he pulled out.. “Hunter buddy of mine's been doing some recon. Seems they plan on having some sort of celebration tonight. If he's right, that means they plan to kill an innocent person.”

Cas nodded. “A virgin sacrifice.”

“Right.” John agreed.

Cas looked at Dean. “First they sacrifice a virgin, usually by strangulation, and then each of the witches will have relations with Satan. Although, I doubt that the actual devil will be there.” 

John nodded his approval. “I see Bobby's been teaching you about this stuff. That's accurate. But we're going to stop it before they actually kill anyone.”

“How do we stop it?” Dean asked.

“We'll do whatever needs to be done.” John said. 

 

>>>>>>>>>>>

It was a long drive along a seemingly endless highway. Finally, by early afternoon, they turned off onto a rutted, country road. The trees dipped down, brushing the truck's roof until it seemed that there was barely any road at all. Finally they saw another truck almost hidden beneath the dense foliage. John pulled up behind it and parked.

It was a dull and cool day, the sun hidden behind a deep ceiling of gray clouds.

They climbed out and Dean hugged himself against the chill. 

“We walk from here.” John said, grabbing his bag and shotgun. “It's about a mile up.”

John led them into the brush. It was an uphill climb. The forest floor was rough with ruts and sharp stones covered in a deep carpet of pine needles. The air was thick and damp. It was not long before Dean pulled off his jacket and tied it around his waist. 

“Keep up.” John snapped.

Cas glanced back at Dean, his face flushed from the exertion. He caught his eye and nodded reassuringly and then continued on.

Finally they stepped out into a clearing and onto a rock floor high up, overlooking the woods beyond. Another man was waiting.

John greeted him with a nod.

“You're late.” he said. The hunter was tall, with long, graying black hair tied back with a leather string. His eyes were dark and deep set, his features sharp.

“Boys, this is Joe Blackthorn. Joe, this is Dean. And this is Cas.”

“They're just boys, John .” Joe replied as he studied them. 

“Dean's been on a couple of hunts now. And Cas is here to observe. Bobby Singer's been training him.”

Joe nodded, his eyes locked onto Dean's. “Yes, I know Singer. A good hunter.” His voice was soft and deep, his expression thoughtful. He approached him. Dean felt the need to flinch under his sharp gaze.

“Are the others coming?” Cas asked. Dean glanced over at him. Cas wasn't looking at John, but watching them carefully.

“They should be here by now.” John replied.

“Why does a young Omega boy like you think that he can hunt?” Joe asked studying him curiously. “Have you not been taught that you are less then other men?”

“I've been told that.” Dean answered softly.

Joe smiled, narrowing his eyes as he studied him. “And yet, I see it in your eyes.”

“What's that?”

“The spirit of a hunter.” he paused for a moment and then nodded his head in approval. “I think perhaps one day, you will bow to no man.” 

Dean returned his gaze. The hunter's eyes were wise and respectful.

It was then that the blast broke the silence, an explosion echoing through the canyon. Dean turned his head, his heart suddenly pounding...breaking.

For a moment Cas smiled at him, his eyes filled with affection and love. And then he collapsed to his knees, a dark pool spreading quickly and staining his shirt.

“Cas!” he cried.

He rushed to him. 

“I'm so sorry Dean.” he whispered softly.

Dean fell to his knees and held him, rocking him gently, just as Cas had rocked him that first time in Bobby's shed. 

And then he was yanked away. 

He looked up into those dark eyes - eyes that were not filled with passion or fury, but were now cold and empty.

“Did you think I wouldn't know Dean. Did you think someone like you, some little Omega shit could make a fool of me?” he asked softly.

And then he was pulled away, strong arms gripping him tightly. 

John grasped Cas' collar and dragged him to the cliff's edge, and then lay him down him beside it. 

Dean struggled and cried out as John smiled back at him in his victory. And then he gave a gentle push with his heavy workboot.

And Dean stopped struggling.

 

>>>>>>>>>>

 

It was several weeks later. The night air was cool, the leaves high up in the trees rustling and fluttering in the gusting mountain breeze. 

He stood by the campfire, his gaze locked onto the flickering light, his expression thoughtful. The boy was gone now. There was only darkness in his green eyes.

The older man sat back watching him and sipping from his tin cup.

“What is you're thinking about hunter?” he asked.

Dean didn't answer. 

The warrior had only one vision these days. It was of a pair of dark eyes and a victorious smile.


	21. Chapter 21

3 Weeks Earlier

 

Tom Sullivan was bored. 

There really wasn't much he loved more then fly-fishing with his dad. But since he hadn't had a nibble all day, even he had to admit, he'd rather be at home planted in front of his computer playing Warcraft with his buddies Nick and Stevie.

“Don't go too far out Tommy.” His dad yelled. 

He looked back and waved him off. He was twelve now for Christ's sake. Anyway, there was something that had caught his eye in that pile of twigs and refuse.

Tom approached it, wrinkling his nose. It looked like it might be a dead animal or something. He got close and snapped off a twig. Cautiously, he poked at it. 

And then, he thought it moved. He jumped back.

A pale face turned towards him. 

“Dad!” he cried out, as a pair of bloodshot, blue eyes blinked open and looked up at him. 

 

>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Cas opened his eyes and then quickly squeezed them shut against the blinding glare. There was no pain. He felt as though he were swimming up from a deep pool of warm colors and hushed voices.

“Sorry.” 

The light dimmed and he cautiously opened them again. 

“Hey there.”

“What...” He croaked.

“It's okay.” Cas felt the bed rise up slowly. 

“Your throat's dry.”

She gently put a straw into his mouth and he sucked up some of the cool elixer. 

“Where am I?” he whispered.

He looked up at her. In the dim light, she appeared to be a pretty woman with bobbed blond hair and a green scrub suit. 

“You're in the hospital, but you're going to be okay. You had us worried for a while though.” she answered. “I'm going to let Dr. May know that you're awake, okay? I'll be right back.”

She quickly rushed from the room. Cas looked around. A curtain was drawn around his bed, the overhead light a dim glow. He looked down at the tubing that was taped, and inserted into his arm. He lay back, his foggy thoughts clearing and his throat dry. 

He remembered the water – cold and green, tossing and churning him and he couldn't breathe. His heart began to pound in fear and he quickly pushed the image away.

He took a deep breath, forcing down the panic. 

He'd been watching Dean and the Indian talking...they'd been on the hunt...and then being slammed back as though he'd been punched and then he remembered the burning pain... and then Dean....Dean.

“It's okay.” The blond nurse rushed to him, grasping his hand. “Calm down. You need to calm yourself.”

“Where's Dean?”

“You need to calm down Castiel. Please, we'll tell you everything but you can't upset yourself.”

“There is no Castiel...I'm Cas. Please, my friend. Is he alright?” He asked desperately.

And then Bobby walked into the room, hat in hand. 

“Bobby.”

“Good to see you awake boy.”

“What happened? Where's Dean?”

“This is not a good time.” the nurse said. 

Bobby ignored her and approached the bed.

“Bobby, please what happened?”

“Bobby gently patted his arm. “You just woke up. Give yourself a minute.”

“Tell me.” he coughed, his throat and mouth dry like cotton. Bobby picked up the water and held it for him as he drank. 

“Easy. Take it slow.” he said, gently pulling it away.

Bobby took a deep sigh. “Alright. You got shot. Don't know by who yet, but the cops are looking into it. And then I guess you fell off the damn cliff and into the rapids. Some kid found you two days later.”

“Two days?”

“That was over ten days ago. Youv'e been in and out ever since. But the doctor says you'll be fine with a little time and some therapy. You were lucky...he doesnt think there's any nerve damage. And then there's the fact that you didn't drown.”

“Shot? Why...”

Bobby shook his head. “Coulda been a stray bullet I suppose. Doc says the range wasn't that far though. I'm gonna find out Cas, I promise you that.

Cas frowned as he tried to bring everything back. “What about John. Dean thought...where is Dean?”

Bobby clutched his hat awkwardly and hesitated. 

“Where is he Bobby?”

“Well, according to John when you fell, Dean jumped in after you. They're still searching for him.”

Cas shook his head. “No. He is not dead Bobby. I'd know.”

“No one's saying he's dead.”

Cas tried to rise and then fell back, grimacing at the sharp wave of pain.

“Just lie back.” Bobby snapped. “You just woke up. You're going to hurt yourself worse.”

“We have to go back there Bobby. I...we need to find him.”

“We'll go back. And we'll find Dean, I promise you that. Just not this minute.”

A small, Asian woman stepped between them, pushing Bobby aside.

“Please, I need to examine him. You need to step out now.” 

“I'll be back son. I'm glad you're back.” Bobby smiled warmly.

“There was an Indian, Bobby...a native American. An old man...long gray hair. John told me his name I think, but I don't remember.” Cas rubbed his face as the room began to ripple before his eyes.

“Please...he's not up to this right now.” 

Bobby nodded and stepped away.

“We'll find him Cas. I'll find him...that's a promise.” he said.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>

 

“You must never underestimate your prey, Dean.” Joe said. “Whether it's a rabbit, a monster or a man.”

Dean nodded. Behind him was the small cabin where the old man had brought him. 

Joe smiled back warmly at the young hunter.

“It's always better to be overly-cautious. Put yourself in their shoes. I know this from experience. I've been fooled more then once.”

“You didn't know.”

“No...still I'm an old man and being a fool is no excuse.”

“You're not a fool, Joe. I'm the fool, not you.”

“You're a boy.”

Dean leaned down and pulled a chunk of meat from the rabbit that roasted over the fire. It burned his fingers and he quickly blew on the charred meat and then popped it into his mouth.

“John Winchester is smart. You have to be careful. You have lots of time.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “There's no rush.” he said.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>


	22. Chapter 22

Death of a Hunter

 

The bar was dim and smoky. 

There was no music playing, no laughter, just the hushed chatter of the mostly battle-worn clientele sitting at the tables and along the worn oak bar. It was a rough crowd – hunters mostly.

John spotted him across the room and gave a nod. The hunter glanced up and beckoned him over.

He wasn't eager for this hunt. He didn't know the hunter he was meeting, but knew of him. He was rumored to be the kind of man who killed first and asked questions later. Still, if his sources were correct, he was also smart and resourceful. 

As he approached him, the hunter leaned back in his chair and looked up at him with a grin His skin was dark, his teeth radiantly white. 

He had his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a young girl. Her eyes were lowered, not even bothering to glance up as he approached.

“Gordon Walker?” he asked.

“The one and only. You're John.”

“That's right.”

“Well, have a seat John.” 

John pulled out a chair and sat down studying the other hunter. Already he was starting to regret his decision. He could see the man was self-involved and cocky – traits which did not serve a hunter well.

“So...I've heard a little about you.” Gordon said. 

“Is that so?”

“You're a tough old bird. Lots of kills. I've heard good things about you though.”

“I've heard things about you too. Some good... some questionable.”

Gordon grinned. “I'm a good hunter, John. One of the best. I'm not just being arrogant here.”

John nodded and shifted his eyes to the young woman. She had bruises down one arm, he noticed. Her skin was pale and her long blond hair hung limply past her shoulders. Her eyes were downcast.

“You going to introduce us?” he asked, looking back at Gordon.

“This is Lucy. She travels with me.”

“Kind of dangerous, taking a young girl on hunts.” John said, noticing the rope burns on her wrists.

Gordon shrugged. “I take care of her. I picked her up down in New Orleans. Her mother was an Omega whore.”

“You picked her up? What does that mean?”

Gordon narrowed his eyes, his smile fading. “I thought you had a job for me. Yes or no, cause I'm a busy man John.”

John nodded. “Okay. There's vampire activity up in the Rockland area, town of Caven. It needs to be stopped. I thought maybe you'd like to help. I heard this is your specialty.”

“Big nest?”

“I don't know how many...might only be a couple. But the signs are there. Last person that disappeared was a twelve year old girl. She's been missing three days now. I'm hoping maybe we'll find her alive.”

“Alright. I can help. This is pro bono I assume?”

“Strictly humanitarian.”

Gordon nodded. “I'll drive up in the morning.”

“Good.” John nodded and then signaled the server to bring him a beer.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>

He sat back, hidden by the shadows in the darkened corner. He took a sip of the luke warm beer. He'd been nursing it for a while now. 

The older man hadn't changed in three years, he thought. Still carried himself with that understated power. The power of someone who could bring others to their knees just by the intensity of his gaze. He reached up and rubbed the scar on his neck. Even for all that he hated him, he could still feel a physical ache at the closeness of him. 

“Are you alright?” 

He looked over at his companion and nodded. “I'm fine.”

“I'll come with you.” the old man offered.

“No..” he said and then smiled warmly. “I've waited too long. I need to do this alone.”

The old man nodded. “It won't bring him back.” he said.

“No, it won't.” 

He stood up and then gently slapped the old man on the shoulder. “But damn, “ he said. “It's gonna feel good.” 

The old man watched him as he quietly slipped out the back door. 

“Be careful Dean.” he said softly.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was just after noon when they were to meet at the old house. 

John pulled the truck up the rocky path and parked it by Gordon's jeep. Gordon was leaning up against the door. 

He noticed the young girl was in the front seat, her face hidden behind her hair. For a moment she glanced up at him, glaring back before she looked down again. Somehow she reminded him a little of....he pushed the thought aside. He seldom thought about Dean now. What he'd done had been necessary. 

And the other one, Cas. He'd deserved what he'd gotten. It was a shock to him that the kid had survived. 

“I had a look around. Had a peek in the window.” Gordon said. “Looks like there's three of them...don't know if there are any upstairs or in the basement. They've got the girl in there. She might still be alive. Looks like they've been feeding on her awhile though.”

“Alright. You ready?”

“Always.” Gordon said with a grin.

The massacre didn't take long. 

They rushed into the house, two of the male vampires, nearly mindless at this point, tried to fight. But they were helpless against the hunters. John chased the third up the stairs. She'd been a young girl in life, no more then thirteen. He cornered her in the hallway. She fell to her knees and crawled away from him. He easily caught her and grabbed her by her hair. He could see, she hadn't been turned for long. There was still humanity left in her eyes. “Please...I just want to go home...please.” she pleaded. 

He grimaced and then swung back the knife, swiftly separating her head.

After a search he headed back down the stairs.

“There was nothing in the basement.” Gordon said. He was examining the bite marks on the young victim. Gordon released his grip and she curled up on the couch, silent and dazed.

“You sure?” John asked.

“Yeah...look for yourself if you want.”

“It was almost too easy.” John said.

Gordon stood up, brushing his hands on his jeans. “I aint complaining.”

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

The Dominion Hotel was on the outskirts of town. It was late when he returned. 

He'd driven the girl to the local hospital, but when they'd arrived she was already dead. He'd left her on a gurney and slipped away. And then he'd gone back to the house to wait. No other vamps had shown up.

He was tired when he made his way into his dark room. He clenched his fist as he walked into the bathroom. The joints were sore and achy. It seemed maybe a little arthritis was setting in.

As he studied his reflection, he shook his head in wonder. There was gray in his hair and in his stubble now. His eyes looked tired, his skin lined. When the hell had he gotten so damned old, he wondered.

He walked back into the room and poured himself a shot. 

It was then that he noticed it on his pillow. 

He walked over and picked it up curiously. It was a photograph. The boy, Cas. It looked like it'd been taken in Bobby's kitchen. His face held that serious, curious look that he seemed to always wear. 

And then he heard the cocking of the gun.

He didn't turn, just smiled and nodded.

“I should have finished the job.” he said.

“Yeah, you should have.”

He turned slowly. The boy sat in the shadowed corner. He could see him well enough though. He looked older, he thought. He was a man now. The rounded contours of his face were sharper, his shoulders broader. His eyes were still pretty though. They'd been the first thing he'd noticed when he'd laid eyes on the young Omega. It seemed now however, that the innocence and fear in them were gone. They were ice cold as they studied him.

“You grew up.” he said. 

“Kinda had to.”

“You look good.” John said with admiration. “Mind if I finish my drink?”

Dean nodded. 

John sat down at the end of his bed and took a sip of his whiskey. “So, you think you can just kill a man in cold blood?”

“You mean like you did?”

He smirked. “Yeah, like that.” 

“I think so John. I'll sleep fine tonight.”

“What about Sammy?”

“Sam isn't part of this.”

“He will figure it out Dean. He's smart, smarter then you. He'll come after you one day.”

Dean nodded. “Finish your drink John.”

“You know, I loved you like a son.” He said, his hand shaking slightly as he took another drink.

“You done?”

John sighed deeply and took a final swig of the whiskey. And then he smiled back at him.“There is one more thing Dean. He didn't die.”

He felt nothing when it hit. The darkness was immediate. 

The battle-weary hunter was dead.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>


	23. Chapter 23

After the Kill

 

The cabin was empty when Dean returned. He made his way to the sofa that had been his bed these last few years, and sat down. He wouldn't be sleeping here again. 

It had been so easy and fast and now it was done. He rubbed his face tiredly and breathed in deeply. 

He could still see him...his eyes. Those dark eyes that he had loved, feared and hated. Suddenly his stomach clenched and he quickly rushed out the front door and vomited violently into the long grass.

He curled up on the rough ground and closed his eyes. 

He'd waited so long. Shock had turned to bitterness and then to cold hatred.

“You did it?' 

Dean didn't look up. “Yes.”

The old man said nothing, just walked into the cabin.

He lay there for a while and then rolled onto his back and looked up at the clear sky. High above a hawk soared and he watched if for a while as it drifted upon the air currents. 

Finally he got up and walked back inside. Joe was sitting by the fireplace, sipping his coffee. 

“They say that revenge is a dish best served cold.” Joe said. 

Dean poured himself a cup and sat down across from him. “That's not exactly an old Indian proverb.” 

“Do you feel better now? Did it bring you peace?”

“No.”

The old man nodded. “So, what now?”

“He said something before he died. He told me that Cas is alive.”

“Do you believe him?”

Dean shook his head. “No... I don't know. I saw him die, Joe. He couldn't have survived.”

“You think he lied?”

“I don't know. John was a killer, but not a coward. He wouldn't lie just to save his life.”

“You know Dean, when John came to me and told me that he would kill another, I didn't know he was murdering a boy.”

“I know that.”

“My point is, whether he killed the boy or not, the intent was there. He was still a killer Dean.”

“And now I'm a killer.”

“Yes.” he agreed. 

Dean brushed back his hair and smiled sadly at the old Indian. “I have to know, Joe.” he said. “I have to go back.”

“If you do, then what? It can't be the same Dean. Maybe you're better off not to know.”

He shook his head thoughtfully. “If he's alive, then I'm a murderer.”

“And if he's dead? What are you then?”

Dean didn't answer. But he thought he knew. If Cas was dead, then he was no better then John. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Cas sat up in his bed and squinted at the bright morning light that was shining in through the cotton curtains. He looked out and noticed the sun was high up in the sky. He'd slept in again. 

He needed to get ready. Jo would arrive this afternoon. They were leaving on a hunting trip to the northern tip of Kansas. Bobby'd done the research. Possible werewolf attacks on the outskirts of a small town called Linden. 

“I see you finally decided to get your ass out of bed.”

Bobby was sitting in his kitchen, sipping from his favorite cracked mug. He could smell the aroma of coffee and bacon. He poured himself a cup.

“I slept in.”

“You're doing that a lot lately.”

Cas sat down across from him. “I'm getting lazy I guess.”

“There's bacon left. Why don't you make yourself some breakfast.”

“I'm not hungry.”

Bobby scowled as he studied him across the table. The boy was too thin.

“I'm driving into town to pick up some supplies. You can polish up that old Chevy for me. I got a customer coming in later who want's to look at it.”

“Dean's Impala?”

Bobby sighed. 

“We've discussed this Bobby. You can't sell that car.”

“Son...”

“I thought eventually we might give it to Sam.”

“Sam won't even be driving for three or four years. This isn't a storage lot Cas. Damn thing's just collecting dust back there.”

“I'll buy it from you.”

Bobby smirked. “You don't want that old car. She's a gas burner. She's no good on rough terrain. And she stands out like a damn sore thumb. What you need's a pick-up...or maybe a jeep. I'll keep my eyes opened for you.”

“You can't sell that car Bobby.”

Bobby stood up with a scowl. He grabbed his coat. “I'm going.”

“I might be gone when you get back. Jo's coming after lunch.”

“Just be careful. And check in.”

“I'm always careful, Bobby.” 

“Stubborn idgit.” Bobby mumbled as he stepped out the door.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Cas slid open the worn wood door and walked into the old storage shed. 

It was at the back, covered by a white tarp. He and Bobby'd worked on it for some time, getting it ready for when Dean returned. 

The official search had been called off after a week. The body would turn up sooner or later was the conclusion. He and Bobby'd never found out who the Indian was or who'd fired the shot. Cas thought he knew though. But John's rifle hadn't matched the bullet they'd dug out of him. 

Jo still lived with John and Sam...said Sammy needed her there. But she never hunted with John again.

He yanked the tarp off the car and walked around her. He didn't really care about cars. The Impala was too big and showy for his taste. But Dean had loved it.

He opened the door, the hinges creaking loudly in the silence of the shed, and climbed in. The interior smelled of old leather and dust. He slipped the key in ignition. The powerful engine roared to life and he smiled softly. It would be ready for him. 

>>>>>>>>

Dean watched, his green eyes moist. He carefully stood back, out of view. It wasn't time yet. 

Cas hadn't changed much. He was a little taller now, and slimmer. His dark curls were still dishevelled. For a moment he felt that urge to run his fingers through them and smooth them down. If only for a moment to smell, and taste and feel....

He smiled as Cas climbed in. The car looked good, he thought. Cas and Bobby'd fixed her up. Dean felt a little pride. He'd always known she was a beauty.

He nodded sadly and stepped back.

A cloud passed in front of the sun and he glanced up. The sky was mostly blue though. It would be a nice, clear spring day he thought as he walked away. It was not the time now. He was not the boy he had once been.

He was a hunter now – and a killer he supposed.

He made his way, once again, along the aisle between the piled up wrecks. 

And then he slipped quietly out, through the gate.

>>>>>>>>>>>


	24. Chapter 24

The Preacher

 

John told Dean once, “The worst kind of monster is the human kind. I personally, have no issue with putting them down.”

It was ironic that John's own philosophy had come back to bite him in the ass. 

But, such is life.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

The highway stretched ahead all the way to the horizon. The trees and sky were awash with the pinks and golds of the early evening sunset. 

Dean walked along the graveled shoulder, his duffel bag slung across his back. Not many cars passed along this way. But he was in no hurry. He had no destination in mind.

Finally the quiet was disturbed by the sound of a black van approaching from the east. He put out his thumb. 

The van slowed and passed him and then stopped and backed up. Dean rushed over and pulled open the creaky, rusted door.

“Where are you heading my son.?” 

The driver was an older man, with long white hair. He was dressed in black and had a small wooden cross hanging from a leather string around his throat.

“Just west.” Dean answered.

“Hop in.”

Dean climbed in. The interior was old and worn. The seat wobbled as he sat and he noticed a plastic Jesus hanging from the rear view mirror. 

“Are you just traveling, or have you a destination?” the man asked as they pulled back onto the highway.

“You can just take me as far as you're going, or til you kick me out, I guess.”

“I have no particular destination in mind, my son. I travel the road spreading the word.”

“Awesome.”

The man reached over and put on the radio. The soft sounds of gospel filled the air. Dean scowled and sat back. 

“You don't like this kind of music?”

“It's your radio.” Dean answered. 

“So tell me, whats a young man like you doing traveling alone.”

“Like me?”

“Yes, like you. “

Dean smirked. “It's allowed isn’t it?”

“Of course.” 

Dean noticed he kept glancing over curiously, his look disapproving.

“You know, if you got a problem with me, you can just pull over.” he said. 

“I've no problem with you. I meant no offense. Can I ask you something?”

“Yes sir.”

“Have you been saved?”

Dean smirked. “I think it's too late for me.”

“It's never too late. I take it you're not a Christian?”

“I don't know. I don't really think about it much.”

The man nodded and returned his attention to the road.

Dean sat back and looked out the side window, watching as the trees and houses rushed by. And he thought about him...Maybe he should have stayed. But then again, there was Sammy. He couldn't face Sam again. How could he?

“What's your name my son?” 

Dean glanced over. 

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” he answered.

“My name is Father Michael. Are you hungry Dean?”

“I guess, a little.”

“ I keep a cooler in the back. There's ham in it and some bread. Why don't you climb on back and make us some sandwiches. There's some cans of pop... just help yourself.”

Dean smiled. “Okay. Thank you father.”

The preacher smiled back, his eyes warmer now. “You're welcome Dean. I always have food to share.”

The back of the van contained a single bed, the cooler and a chest. Dean opened the cooler and retrieved the bread and ham.

He made up the lunch and climbed back into the front, handing him a can of Coke. 

“Much obliged.” the preacher said. He opened the can and took a swig and then belched loudly. Dean looked at him in surprise and he shrugged. “Good thing there are no ladies present.” he said and took a bite of his sandwich. 

“So you drive around and save people huh?” 

“I teach the word. It's not up to me to save them.”

“And you live in this van?”

“I have a home Dean. This is just my vehicle.”

“There can't be much money in preaching. No offense.” Dean said.

Michael smiled. “No there's not a lot of profit. I take my profit from what I see in people’s eyes when they find Christ. Also, I am amenable to donations if people are so inclined.”

 

“So, you convert a lot of people?” Dean asked as he chewed his sandwich.

“If it only happened once, then it would be worth it. And no, not often. But sometimes.”

“Hmm.” Dean took a swig of Coke and then belched. 

“Sorry.”

“Quite alright.”

“Can I ask you a question father?”

“I'm an open book.”

“How can you be so sure? I mean, don't you have doubts?”

Michael looked over at him thoughtfully. “It's called faith Dean.”

“Well, I guess I'm a heathen. It seems to me life's about living, not about what happens after.”

Michael laughed. “You Dean, are a bit of a philosopher.”

Dean scoffed and then grinned at the preacher. “I'm really not.”

“Well you're quite bright for ...”

“You can say it. I'm an Omega. We're not known for our intellects.”

“You seem pretty smart to me.”

Dean smiled and looked at the preacher curiously. “It's funny.” he said. “Someone else said that to me once.”

“I'm surprised you've only heard it once. And I meant no offense Dean.”

“None taken.”

They were quiet for a while. Dean found himself humming along to a rowdy version of Jesus Loves the Little Children. Father Michael smiled approvingly. 

It was dark when they drove up to a crossroads. The preacher pulled up to a corner and turned off the engine. 

Dean snapped out of his stupor. “Why've we stopped?” 

“It's late. I'm tired Dean. I think I'll wait until the morning to choose my direction from here. You're welcome to sleep in the van or you can be on your way.”

“I guess I'll go.”

“Well then may God be with you. But, I really think you'd be better to stay. 

Dean looked across the darkened field. It was a still, quiet night, only the crickets chirped from the roadside.

“No.” he said. “I think I'll just keep moving. Thanks for the ride.”

He grabbed his bag and began to walk until he reached the crossroads. He looked up at the sky. A cloud crossed the moon and for a moment and he was shrouded in darkness. He glanced back at the van. It was a only a dark shape now. And then he heard a russling in the bushes and started. Nothing appeared. 

With a resigned sigh he turned and walked back. The preacher smiled and opened the van door for him.

“Tell me Dean, do you have any family?” He asked from the darkness behind him. Dean was stretched out on the front seat, a blanket pulled around him.

“No.” he answered simply.

“I'm sorry. It must be hard to be on your own at your age.”

“I get by. What about you? Do you have family?”

“I have a son. A lost son. I hadn't seen him in some years. But I've recently located him.”

“What do you mean, lost.”

“I mean, he's lost his way. I'm hopeful he may find it again.”

Dean closed his eyes for a while and listened to the quiet night sounds. And then the preacher started to talk.

“I had two boys. One died by his own hand. That's why the other turned away from God. But he was wrong. God had no hand in his death. My son was like you Dean.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was born with disadvantages. If he'd been strong he would have persevered. But he was weak. I think his brother blamed God for that weakness.”

“It must have been awful. I'm sorry.”

“His death was tragic of course. But you see, the real tragedy was not that he was gone, but that he committed the worst sin – which is to take a life. There is no salvation for an unrepentant killer.”

“What about a repentant killer?” Dean asked softly.

“God forgives all sins – you only need to ask.”

“It's that easy is it?

The preacher didn't answer for a while. 

And then he said. “I think you should travel with me for a while Dean.”

Dean didn't answer. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

Later, in the darkness, he struggled to breathe. He tried to push him off but it seemed there was nothing else but his weight on top of him and those dark eyes looking down into his.

“Close your eyes, Omega.” 

“No.”

John smiled sadly. “What are you so afraid of Dean?” 

He pushed into him again and Dean felt that familiar wave of pleasure. 

The knife lay next to him and he grasped the hilt.

“I'm sorry.” he whispered. 

“I'd never hurt you son.” 

“I'm so sorry.” 

He slowly brought the knife up and pushed. 

There seemed to be no resistance. He kept pushing til the hilt was the only part still visible. The flow of John's blood slowly cascaded over his hand and down his wrist. 

And then... with a gasp, he opened his eyes. 

The preacher was watching him, his blue eyes shadowed in the pre-dawn darkness.

“Are you alright my son?”

Dean sat up and rubbed his face. 

“Yeah...I'm fine.”

“Good. Try to go back to sleep Dean.”

“Yes sir.”

“You know, I don't know what it is that haunts you, but before God can forgive you, you must forgive yourself.” he said. “Now, close your eyes and sleep.” 

For a while he gently ran his fingers through Dean's hair until his breathing grew slow and even. 

He watched him for a while as he slept. The boy was beautiful. He was a temptation, an abomination really, just like all his kind were. He reached down and caressed his full lower lip. Dean mumbled softly in his sleep and turned his head away. 

And then the preacher climbed back between the seats into the darkness behind them. 

>>>>>>>>>

The next morning Father Michael pulled the van up to the crossroads. “So, which way Dean?” he asked, looking over at him curiously. 

“North?” 

“North it is then.” 

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

It seemed to Cas sometimes, that life had a way of coming back full circle. He'd moved on. His father was dead to him. And yet somehow, he always known that one day they'd meet up again. 

So when he saw his father's old black van pull up in the drive that morning, he was disappointed but not all that surprised.

Father Michael didn't smile. Just studied him carefully as he approached. “You've grown up Castiel.” he said.

“It's just Cas now. How did you find me?”

“Were you hiding?”

“No.”

“It was easy to find you Castiel. God led me to you. You are my son.”

“You had two sons once.”

Father Michael grimaced and shook his head. The sunset washed him in golden light and for a moment Cas was reminded of the power that he held over him. He'd thought he was God once. 

“You can't blame me for your brother's sin.” the preacher said.

“You mean his death?”

“His death was his sin Castiel.”

“What is it you want?” Cas asked.

“I want you to come home. Home to me. Home to God.”

Cas laughed bitterly. “Just leave.” he said.

“Castiel....”

“It's Cas. Castiel died with James. I have nothing to say to you, Father Michael. Please, just leave.”

The preacher nodded, his blue eyes locked onto Cas'. “I'll go son. But I'll be back. I won't forsake you.”

Father Michael stood for a moment and returned his gaze, his blue eyes narrowing. And then the preacher turned and walked back to his van. As Cas watched him, he thought of James. James had been the one forsaken. He suddenly realized that he was no longer angry with his father. What he felt now was simple, cold hatred. 

He turned back into the house, closing the door behind him. 

As he stepped in, he took a deep breath and smiled as he caught a whiff of Bobby's chile simmering in the kitchen. 

This was home now. 

>>>>>>>>>>


	25. Chapter 25

The old van pulled into the small town of Middleton around noon. 

“You must be hungry Dean.” the preacher said as he pulled up in front of a cafe that advertised all day breakfast. 

Dean smiled over at him. “I could eat.”

“Go on in and get a table. I'll be along.”

Dean nodded and climbed out of the van. 

He wasn't sure why he was staying on with the old preacher, but there was something about him. The old man was a fanatic, and certainly a little weird. Still, Dean felt drawn to him. And, he had to admit, he kind of liked him. 

He pulled open the door and he breathed in the pleasant aromas of fried eggs and bacon.

The cafe was mostly full – retirees enjoying their lunches or late breakfasts. 

Dean found an empty booth near the back.

“Hey sweetie.”

He looked up and into a pair of warm brown eyes. “Hey.”

“You waiting for someone?” 

She was about forty, brown hair and slim. Her nametag said Debra. 

“Um yeah. He should be in, in a moment.”

“My goodness, I think I'd remember you. Since I don't, I'm assuming you're just passing through?”

“Yeah. My...ah friend is a minister. He travels around preaching. I'm just along for the ride.”

“Well honey, I'm a little old for you, but you know what? I bet you could convert my daughter in about five minutes.”

Dean smirked and lowered his eyes shyly.

“You want a coffee while you wait hon?”

“That'd be great.”

It was several minutes later that the good father slid in across from him. He lay a pile of papers down on the table in front of him.

Dean glanced at them curiously.

“Flyers.” Michael explained. “I use the same in each town. They explain the message.”

Dean snorted. “Flyers?”

“You find that amusing?”

Dean forced back his smile and looked back at the preacher seriously. “No. It's just, well it seems kind of tacky? I don't know, do you think people actually read them.”

“If they feel compelled or if they happen to be looking for answers.”

Dean shrugged. “Okay.” he said.

“Dean, if one person in a hundred picks up this piece of paper and gains something from it, even if it's just curiousity, then it's worth handing out.”

“So you just walk down the main street and hand them out? I mean I could do that for you if you'd like.”

The preacher smiled and nodded. “Well that's a fine offer my son, but that's not quite how we do it.”

>>>>>>>>

 

It was about an hour or so later that Dean found himself accompanying the preacher up the sidewalk in front of a long line of old frame houses. He was wearing a black suit and tie that Michael had pulled from his trunk. They had belonged to his son, he said. The suit was a little wrinkled. The pants hung a couple of inches above his workboots and the sleeves as well, were too short. But Father Michael assured him he looked both well kempt and humble at the same time.

“I have to warn you Dean. Some people...well quite a few actually, will be abrupt. Some may even slam their doors in our faces. But you get used to that.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, you just watch and listen.” he stopped and put his hand on Dean's shoulder. “Maybe you'll pick up a little faith along the way.”

The first door they knocked on was opened by an elderly woman. She had soft, gray hair and wore a gray tracksuit and pink slippers. “Yes? How can I...” A tabby cat scampered past her feet. 

“Felix! Oh, damn.” she said. 

Dean quickly rushed after him and then the cat stopped and rolled onto his back. He leaned down and picked him up.

“Well, aren't you sweet.” the woman said, beaming at him as he handed the cat back to her. “You stay right there. I'll just put him away and I'll be right back.”

Dean smirked and shrugged at the reverend who was watching with interest.

She returned, smiling warmly at Dean. “So, how can I help you gentlemen?”

“My name is Father Michael. I'm with the Church of the Holy Blessed.”

“Oh, I see.” the woman frowned. “Well... I really don't think I'm interested.”

Through the doorway the aroma of cinnamen and fresh baked apple wafted out. Dean breathed in the sweet scent, his mouth watering.

“May I ask you maam, have you been saved?” Michael asked. 

Her attention was on Dean though. 

“Do you like pie, young man?” she asked.

“I'd have to say that's a big yes.” Dean answered. 

“Well goodness. Since you saved my cat, I guess you'd better come on in and have a piece.”

“Well I don't know.”

“Don't be silly. I insist.”

“Well then, thank you maam.” 

She stepped back. “Come in. I suppose you can come too Father.”

Dean looked at the good father and grinned, and then led them into the house.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was later in the afternoon as they walked back towards the van that the preacher gently put his hand on Dean's shoulder. Most of the fliers had been handed out.

“You know Dean, I believe you may be an asset that I wasn't even aware I needed.”

Dean looked over at him curiously. Michael grinned and then walked on ahead. “Come on my son. We need to cleanse off the day's toil.”

>>>>>>>>>>>

“Tell me Dean, have you been baptised?”

Dean stood in front of the van, looking at the beautiful scene before him. The leaves were green and plush in the trees and wild flowers were beginning to bloom in bright pinks and purples along the river's edge. The water's surface was still, like glass.

“No sir, not that I know of.” he answered. 

Michael stood beside him, dressed in a pair of white long johns. Dean wore only his boxers and had an old, threadbare towel hung around his neck.

“Well...while we're here.” Michael nodded solemnly and walked towards the river's bank. 

Dean reluctantly followed.

“I can't swim too well.” he said as he stepped into the frigid water. Michael ignored him.

As he waded in, Dean gasped at the icy chill. “Damn, it's cold.”

“Don't blaspheme Dean.

“Yes sir.”

“Come over here.” 

The reverend stood waist deep. Dean made his way over to him. Michael was watching, his eyes now focused onto his. His chest was bare, the only adornment the wooden cross hanging from his neck. He was fit and muscled, his skin very pale.

“What is this?” Michael asked, reaching over and examining the amulet that Sam had given him. 

“Don't.” Dean reached up, and pushed his hand roughly away. “I'm sorry.” he said. “But, you don't get to touch that.”

Michael nodded. “It's pagan Dean, but I apoligize. I overstepped.”

He gripped his shoulder, his blue eyes locked onto his. “Now, perhaps we can try to cleanse you of your sins my son.”

“How?”

“Give yourself over to me...to God. Don't fight it Dean, just relax and open your mind to the light.” 

Dean tried to relax, but found himself shivering in the icy water.

“Do you repent my son?”

Dean found his eyes locked onto the old preachers. He could see no forgiveness, just a fiery intensity.

“Yes.” he pleaded. 

“You must ask for forgiveness.” the preacher said.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” Dean answered softly.

Michael placed his hand behind his neck and the other on his chest. And then Dean allowed himself to be pushed back into the icy water. 

As it covered his chest and then his face, he reached up and gripped Michael's wrist. 

From beneath the surface he could see the old preacher looking down at him through the clear water. He couldn't hear what he was saying, but the preacher was talking...preying. 

It seemed to go on for so long... too long. Dean's heart began to pound. He needed to breathe. He tried to push off Michael's strong grip, but the old man only pushed harder, his hold relentless. 

And then he began to panic.

He struggled frantically, trying to fight off those hands which held him under. 

And then finally, his struggle weakened, and he calmed and watched the rays of light that shimmered and filtered through the water and lit up the shape above. 

The preacher looked like an angel he thought, haloed above him by the sun's golden rays.

And then, he let himself breathe in the icy, clear water. 

For a moment the light around him brightened, and then it dimmed and he knew no more.

“Breathe James....breathe.” 

Dean coughed and then felt the water rush up through his mouth, choking him. He rolled over onto his side, his stomach lurching, his head pounding. 

The preacher rubbed his back. “Just calm yourself my son.” he said.

He lay there quietly for a while, the afternoon sun warming him. 

“Why?” he asked finally.

Michael didn't answer for a while and Dean rolled over onto his back and looked up at him.

“Why?” 

“Did you see God's light?” Michael asked, his eyes curious. 

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Dean...did you see God's light?”

“I don't know...I saw a light I guess.”

“Good. You know Dean, I would never have let you die. You have to believe me. When I saw you panic I pulled you out. You do believe me don't you?”

Dean sat up and Michael reached down and helped him. 

“That's not what I meant.”

Michael looked back at him questioningly.

“I meant, why did you save me? You should have finished it.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully. “That's what you wanted?”

“Yes.” Dean answered softly, his eyes filling with tears.

“You're an Omega Dean. That's not your fault. But still, Omega's are an offence to God. You tempt me in every way. Even to kill.”

“Then why did you save me?”

“It's not time yet Dean.”

He reached up and placed his hand on Dean's arm. “You need to put on some dry clothes.”

He helped Dean up and they made their way back to the van.

>>>>>>>>>>>


	26. Chapter 26

It was on an early July morning that Cas placed his carefully folded jeans into his duffel bag and then zipped it up. He sat down on the bed. He didn't think he'd forgotten anything. 

The bed was neatly made and he lay down for a moment. 

He didn't think of him too often now. He always pushed the thought away. He knew it was time to move on...past time really. Still, when he lay quietly in his bed sometimes he thought about Dean and wondered where he was. It had never occurred to him that he was dead. 

Jo thought he was. Even Sammy had accepted it. But Cas knew, just as he'd seen his father again, that one day he'd also see his beautiful Omega – his Dean.

He'd be heading off today on a hunt up in northern Minnesota. 

From downstairs he could hear the sound of Kenny Rogers singing about when to hold em and when to fold em. He hummed along in his gruff voice.

“This aint our kind of thing Cas.” Bobby'd grumbled when he'd told him. “If it is a killer, it's the human kind. The FBI'll take care of it.”

“Well, they haven't. Besides I'm not convinced this is a serial killer.”

Bobby snorted. “There's no indication that it's a killer at all. And if it is, you don't know for sure where he's going to hit next.”

“He's already killed again. A town called Caven, Minnesota. They found a young kid in his bathtub.”

“How do you know it's your guy...or monster?”

“Sam has figured out a pattern. This has been going on for a long time Bobby. Before it was only about once a year. That's why no one noticed. But the numbers are increasing.”

“We hunt monsters Cas...not people.”

“I have to go after this one Bobby.”

“Why?”

“Just... because. Besides, the cops don't care. It's only Omegas who're dying.”

Bobby'd sighed in frustration. “Cas, people kill themselves. It happens all the time.”

“No.” Cas said thoughtfully. “There's more to this.”

“Well fine then, I suppose I'll go with you.”

Cas smiled back warmly. “You don't need to. Jo's coming.”

“You dragged Jo into this crazy hunt?”

Cas shook his head. “Do you think I could have stopped her?” 

Bobby sighed. “A couple of idgits.” he'd grumbled.

Outside, Jo's old Rover pulled into the drive.

He grabbed his bag and headed downstairs.

>>>>>>>>>>>

It was a couple of days later, late in the evening, that Cas slowly drove his new – and very old – green pickup down the main street of Caven, Minnesota.

Caven had a population of only eight hundred, so the street was quiet, as was the Rockford Tavern and Hotel on this Tuesday night. 

He pulled his pickup up to the front and turned off the ignition. The motor sputtered for a moment then died with a loud backfire. Jo smirked over at him and shook her head.

“What?” Cas asked.

“Nothing. Just, you couldn't have done better then this?”

“It's what I could afford. Besides, I like it.”

“It's embarrassing Cas. The thing announces its arrival.”

He scowled and pulled open the creaky door. 

He glanced up at the darkened windows above. 

“Looks quiet.” he said.

Jo grabbed her bag from the back. “At least they should have a vacancy.”

The lobby was all dark wood and subdued lighting. 

As they walked past, Cas peeked through the door that led into the bar. 

There were a couple of older guys sitting on stools drinking beers and watching some game and two forty-something women sitting at one of the tables. They both glanced up at him and the bleached blond with the hoop earrings grinned and made a comment to her friend and then she beckoned him over by pushing the extra chair out with her foot. 

Cas nodded and quickly made his way up to the front desk.

“We need a room.” Jo was saying.

“Two queens if you have it.” Cas said, as he stepped up.

From behind the desk, an older lady with gray cropped hair and dark, unfriendly eyes glanced over at Cas.

“You want two queens, you need two rooms.” She said.

“One room's fine.” Jo replied, pulling out her wallet and grabbing a credit card.

>>>>>>>>>

“This is nice...cozy” 

Jo sat down on the lumpy bed and sank. “Not much support.”

Cas sat down on the other side. “We really should have gotten two rooms.” He grumbled. 

“Don't worry, I'll keep my hands to myself.” 

She lay back on the bed. And Cas lay down next to her. 

“I wasn't worried, I was just thinking of you.”

“Well, I don't mind if you don’t. Besides, we're on a budget.” she rolled on her side and looked at him. “Anyway, we're both grown ups.”

“That may be the problem.”

“Hey Cas?”

“Hmm.”

“You know we really can't do much tonight...and” she reached over and ran her fingers across his chest. “Since there's nothing else to do...”

“No.”

“It'd be fun.”

“I'm sure it would.”

“Well then, why not?”

Cas sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. “It would be unprofessional.”

Jo snorted and pulled her hand away.

“You know, if it was another girl or another guy for that matter, I'd know how to compete. I can't compete with a ghost.”

“He's not dead.”

“Maybe not. But you can't wait forever. He's not coming back Cas.”

“I know that. I just...” he rolled over and studied her. “I don't want to use you Jo.”

“It's okay.” she lay back on the pillow and smirked. “Use me.”

Cas sat up and rolled over to the side of the bed.

“I think I'll take a shower. Then we can head down and risk the food.” 

Jo rolled her eyes. “Fine.” she said. “You do that.”

Cas went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

>>>>>>>>>>>

It was around ten in the evening that a young Omega named Andy was mopping the kitchen floor of the Rockford Tavern and Hotel. The bar was quiet tonight. He softly sang along to the sweet lull of Tammy Wynette.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He startled and looked into the angry eyes of the tavern owner, Jim Carver. Jim was a tough ex-biker who'd bought the place a year before. He had a low tolerance for Omegas, particularly stupid Omegas like Andy. 

“Cleaning up.”

“You don't mop til we're closed idiot. There's tables need busing. Now get out there and get busy.”

“Yes sir.”

Jim scowled at him for a moment, then headed back out to the bar.

Andy grabbed a tray and followed. 

Most of the tables were empty and only a couple of folks were lined up along the bar. He glanced over at a young couple who he didn't recognize. The girl was pretty, with golden hair and big brown eyes. She was talking quietly to the guy across from her, a well built young man with dark curls and the kind of face that Andy knew women were drawn to – strong jaw, dark stubble and full lips. He felt a twinge of envy.

He walked around loading his tray with empty glasses. It was then that the girl walked up behind him and smiled. He flushed, his eyes lowering.

“Hey.” she greeted with a smile.

He nodded back. 

“I'm Jo Harvelle.”

Andy waited. It wasn't often patrons bothered speaking to him. 

“My friend and I heard about that poor boy who died. He worked here didn't he?” Jo asked.

“Yeah, Dylan. He lived upstairs with Jim and me.”

“It's so sad.” Jo said. “Were you close?”

“I knew him since we were kids.”

“It must have been awful. Did anyone see it coming?”

Andy shook his head and scowled. “Dylan was always happy...well, til that preacher showed up.”

“Preacher?”

“Some nutjob. Came into town a couple of weeks ago trying to convert everybody. He got real close to him. That's when he started to change...got all depressed and thinking he was a bad person. He wasn't though.”

“Is he still in town? The preacher?”

“Yeah, I think so. He's got some kid with him. I think I've seen them around. They go door to door. Most people just blow them off though.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Father Michael. I think he lives out of his van just outside town.”

Jo nodded. “And the kid's name?”

“I'm not sure. Dean I think. A real pretty boy.”

Jo paled a little and looked at him curiously. “They live on the outskirts of town you said?”

“Yeah. Maybe five miles out. Just east on the highway. You'll see the van if you pass. It's just parked along the lakeshore. Why?”

“No reason. Again, I'm sorry for your loss.”

Andy nodded and turned away. 

Just then the owner, Jim was walking by him. The tray was knocked from his hands, the glasses and dishes crashed to the floor.

“Stupid moron!” Jim snapped, and then shook his head in apology to Jo. “Hard to get good help.” he said.

Andy knelt down. 

It was as he was picking up the glasses that he looked up and noticed that the dark haired guy was kneeling down across from him. The guy glanced up at him and smiled, his blue eyes warm. And then he went back to helping him pick up the broken glasses.

>>>>>>>>>>

Dean slept on the van floor now, next to the preacher's cot. They'd picked up a couple of sleeping bags at a thrift shop. It was comfortable, dark and quiet. 

They'd pulled into Caven, Minnesota a couple of weeks before. Normally they only stayed a couple of days in town, but the preacher had wanted to stay on for a while this time. They'd found a good spot to park the van just off the highway about a half mile out of town.

Sometimes, in the darkness, the preacher lay down next to him. He never hurt him, just caressed and shuddered softly. 

In the morning he preyed for forgiveness.

“You came to me for a reason.” Michael had said to him. “I think it is to test me.”

“I can leave if you want.”

Michael had studied him and then shook his head. “No. God has brought us together Dean. I'll know if He wants you to leave. For now, you can help me spread the word.”

Dean smiled at him sadly. “I don't even know if I believe in God, father.”

Michael looked at back at him. “You are a lost soul Dean. I don't think that even I can help you find the light. Perhaps it's what you are. I sometimes think...”

“What father?”

“Dean, God is perfect in His wisdom and he created man in his image. Sometimes I believe he created Omegas only to test good men.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “That's not much of a purpose.”

“I'm sorry Dean. You never chose to be what you are. My son...he didn't choose either. He took the coward's way out though.”

“Maybe that was the only way.”

“Perhaps it was. Perhaps it was all in God's plan after all.”

Dean's eyes filled. “I killed a man father. I killed him for revenge.”

Michael looked back at him, and then smiled softly. “If you don't believe in God Dean, then I'm afraid, there is no hope for you.”

And then he turned away.

 

>>>>>>>>>

Michael Novak was not an evil man. He believed in the sanctity of life. All creatures were important in their own ways. And if there were monsters, which he believed there were, they were placed on earth only to test men. And yet, they needed to be destroyed. Omegas too were an aberration. Men were not meant to be with other men. And only women were put on earth to procreate.

When his son had presented as an Omega, it had nearly broken him.

But even God in his infinite wisdom made mistakes. At least it seemed that way. 

It had only been misfortune that he'd passed the beautiful Omega as he drove away from the salvage yard that day. He almost hadn't stopped for him.

But Michael had felt compelled and pulled over. The boy had climbed into the truck and when he'd seen his face, the perfection of his features, warm green eyes and sensuous lips. Michael had been lost. He knew what he felt was a sin. He'd had those feeling for James as well. Omega's were his weakness...his test.

And when he'd handed a flier to Dylan, the pretty young Omega, he'd been caught by his warm blue eyes and soft brown curls. The boy's face was flushed and the subtle scent of his heat had been irresistible to him. 

It had taken some time, but he'd discovered that Dylan's mother had died at her own hand. Dylan had believed that it was because his father had abandoned them. 

“Why do you think he left?” Michael had asked. They were talking quietly in Dylan's room, the morning sun was shining on his tousled curls, his blue eyes red from weeping.

“I think it was because of me.” Dylan had answered softly.

Michael shook his head. “So much pain.”

“Yes.” 

“It's not your fault that you brought such pain, Dylan. You can't help what you are.”

“If I'd never been born, she would have been happier. Everything was my fault.” Dylan said softly.

Michael looked into his eyes. “Yes.” he said. “I suppose in a way, that's true. I'm sorry my son.”

“What can I do?”

“You must find absolution.” Michael said. “Tell me. Have you been baptized”

“I don't think so.”

“Then I will help you Dylan.”

“I'm scared father.” Dylan said.

Michael looked down at the blade he'd laid on the tub's edge. 

It was the next morning, when Dylan didn't come downstairs, that Andy found him in the tub.

 

>>>>>>>>>>


End file.
